H     O.  BEAC1 




JOHN'S  FIGHT  WITH  THE  BEAR.     Page  79. 


HI  B-a  8HEPARD? 


THE   FRONTIER    SERIES. 


PLANTING  THE  WILDERNESS; 


OB, 


THE   PIONEEB   BOYS. 


A    STORY    OF    FRONTIER    LIFE. 


JAMES   D.  McCABE,  JR. 


BOSTON: 
LEE      A.  N  3D      SH 

1870. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  In  the  year  18C9,  by 

LEE  AXD  SHEPARD, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


rLECTROTYTEr*  AT  TO* 

BOSTON    STEREOTYPE   FOUWDBT, 

19  Spring  Lane. 


t* 


PREFACE. 


THE  author  has  endeavored  to  present  in  these  pages  a 
faithful  picture  of  the  life  and  trials  of  those  brave  men  and 
women  who  drove  out  the  savage  from  the  great  West,  and 
laid  the  foundations  of  that  mighty  empire,  of  which  we 
Americans  of  to-day  are  justly  so  proud.  This  portion  of 
our  history  has  been  too  much  neglected,  and  it  is  hoped 
that  this  little  work  will  induce  many  a  young  American  to 
inform  himself  of  the  events  of  that  part  of  our  country's 
career  which  we  call  our  pioneer  history.  It  is  believed  that 
the  picture  presented  herein  is  "true  to  life,"  for,  although 
the  characters  are  fictitious,  the  incidents  related  are  based 
upon  actual  occurrences,  and  there  are  persons  still  living 
in  the  Ohio  valley,  who  can  testify  to  the  general  truthful 
ness  of  the  narrative.  j  D  McC<>  JR 

NEW  YORK,  October,  1, 1869. 

(3) 


M8S962 


THE    FRONTIER   SERIES. 

FOUR  VOLUMES,    ILLUSTRATED. 


1.  The  Cabin  on  the  Prairie.    By  Rev.  C.  H.  PEABSON. 

Price  $1.25. 

2.  Planting  the  Wilderness;   or,  THE  PIONEER  BOYS. 

By  J.  D.  McCABE.     Price  $1.25. 

3.  A  Thousand  Miles9  Walk  Across  South  America* 

By  NATHANIEL  H.  BISHOP.     Price  $1.50. 

4.  Twelve  Nights  in  the  Hunters'  Camp.    By  Rev. 

WM.  BARROWS.    Price  $1.25. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTEB  PAGE 

I.    LEAVING  THE  OLD  HOME 9 

II.  THE  EMIGRANTS.      ......         16 

III.  BUILDING  AND  CLEARING 24 

IV.  THE  SETTLEMENT 38 

V.    THE  FORT 60 

VI.  AN  ADVENTURE  WITH  THE  INDIANS.      .        .         84 

VII.  THE  "TOMAHAWK  RIGHT."         .        .        .        -115 

VIII.    BORDER  WAR.  . 131 

IX.     THE  SCOUT 155 

X.    THE  SIEGE 183 

XI.    THE  CAPTURE 214 

XII.    THE  TORTURE .227 

XIII.    JOHN'S  WEDDING. 244 

(7) 


PLANTING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

LEAVING   THE   OLD   HOME. 

IN  the  early  spring  of  the  year  of  our  Lord 
1773,  there  lived  on  the  Upper  Potomac,  in  the 
County  of  Loudon,  in  the  then  Colony  of  Vir 
ginia,  a  man  by  the  name  of  Thomas  Oxenford. 
He  was  a  plain,  honest,  God-fearing  man,  and 
was  forty-four  years  old.  He  was  of  English 
descent,  and  his  parents  had  come  originally  to 
Alexandria,  from  which  place  they  had  removed 
to  the  County  of  Loudon,  and  had  settled  upon 
a  small  farm,  not  far  from  where  the  town  of 
Leesburg  now  stands.  Thomas  Oxenford  was 
an  only  child,  and,  consequently,  had  inherited 
the  little  property  of  his  parents,  who  had  died 

(9) 


10  PLANTING    THE   WILDERNESS. 

in  his  thirtieth  year;  but  this  property,  which 
consisted  of  a  tolerably  stocked  farm  of  two 
hundred  acres  of  medium  quality  land,  had 
also  come  to  him  heavily  encumbered  by  his 
fathfer.'s/  ddb'cs.', :  &iid  .it  proved,  in  the  end,  as 
muck  -of  .a  -burden  ,as.a  profit. 

'•  Miv'GxenfGrd-  ka'd  '•  Carried  about  a  year  pre 
vious  to  the  death  of  his  father,  his  last  surviv 
ing  parent,-  and,  at  the  time  of  which  I  write, 
his  family  consisted  of  himself  and  wife,  two 
sons, — John  and  Thomas,  —  aged  respectively 
fourteen  and  twelve  years,  and  three  daughters, 
—  Mary,  Jane,  and  Rachel,  —  aged  respectively 
nine,  six,  and  three  years.  This  little  flock 
was  his  pride  and  delight,  and  I  am  sure  there 
never  lived  a  family  happier  in  each  other. 
They  had,  like  all  of  us,  their  outside  troubles, 
and  at  this  time  these  came  upon  them  with 
terrible  force. 

I  have  said  that  the  Oxenford  farm  came  to 
its  present  owner  encumbered  with  his  father's 
debts.  These  debts  were  very  heavy,  and  for 
fourteen  years  Mr.  Oxenford  had  exerted  him- 


LEAVING   THE    OLD    HOME.  II 

self  to  pay  them.  He  had  reduced  the  amount 
very  greatly;  but,  by  the  spring  of  1773,  the 
principal  and  interest  of  the  aggregate  claims 
against  him  amounted  to  very  nearly  the  full 
value  of  the  farm,  and  his  creditors  threatened 
that,  as  they  saw  no  prospect  of  their  payment, 
they  would  seize  his  property  for  their  own 
protection,  if  their  claims  were  not  discharged 
in  another  year.  This  brought  matters  to  a 
crisis ;  and,  for  a  while,  the  future  looked  dark 
enough  to  the  poor  man.  But  Thomas  Ox- 
enford  was  a  Christian  man;  and  when  his 
troubles  were  darkest,  he  sought  the  only  arm 
that  is  all-powerful  to  save,  and  God  heard 
him,  as  he  hears  the  prayers  of  every  soul 
that  seeks  him,  and  brought  him  through  his 
troubles.  Mr.  Oxenford  determined  to  sell  his 
farm,  and  was  fortunate  enough  to  find  a  cash 
purchaser  for  it.  With  the  money  he  received 
for  it  he  paid  the  last  debt  due  upon  it,  and 
then  prepared  to  leave  forever  the  home  of  his 
own  and  his  children's  childhood.  It  cost  him 
a  hard  struggle  to  do  this ;  for  he  loved  the 


12  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

place  dearly,  both  for  its  own  sake  and  for  the 
many  happy  hours  he  had  passed  there  with 
his  family.  These  ties,  however,  were  broken, 
and  the  little  family  prepared  to  seek  a  new 
home. 

After  selling  his  farm,  and  paying  the  debts 
upon  it,  Mr.  Oxenford  found  that  he  had  a  lit 
tle  less  than  seventy-five  pounds  left.  This 
was  a  small  sum  for  a  man  of  family ;  but  it 
was  all  he  had  to  begin  life  afresh.  To  think 
of  remaining  in  the  older  portion  of  the  colony 
under  such  circumstances  he  felt  to  be  mad 
ness,  and  he  resolved  to  cross  the  mountains, 
and  build  up  a  home  in  the  distant  west.  The 
hardy  pioneers  of  that  section  had  fairly  settled 
the  region  lying  along  the  lower  waters  of  the 
Monongehela  River,  and,  in  several  instances, 
had  pushed  their  settlements  as  far  west  as  the 
left  bank  of  the  Ohio.  The  country  was  new  ; 
but  it  had  ceased  to  be  the  regular  home  of  the 
savages,  who  had  abandoned  all  parts  of  Vir 
ginia,  and  withdrawn  to  what  is  now  the  State 
of  Ohio,  and  it  was  the  place  of  all  places 


LEAVING   THE    OLD    HOME.  13 

which  promised  a  rich  reward  to  those  who 
had  the  courage  and  fortitude  to  come  out  and 
conquer  the  wilderness.  The  savages,  it  is 
true,  made  frequent  incursions  into  this  section ; 
but,  as  a  general  thing,  they  accomplished  very 
little,  and  the  whites  had  gained  a  foothold 
which  every  one  felt  was  too  firm  to  be  forced 
back.  Mr.  Oxenford  had  heard  rare  stories 
of  the  beauty  and  fertility  of  the  Ohio  Valley, 
and  had  more  than  once  contemplated  a  re 
moval  to  it  in  case  his  difficulties  came  to  the 
worst,  and  had  only  been  prevented  from  put 
ting  this  plan  into  execution  by  two  very  nat 
ural  feelings  —  namely,  a  desire  to  remain  in 
his  old  home,  and  a  hope  of  conquering  his  ill 
fortune  without  subjecting  his  family  to  the 
hardships  and  inconvenience  of  such  a  re 
moval ;  but  now  that  there  was  no  escape  from 
the  necessity  of  making  a  change,  he  deter 
mined  to  lose  no  time  in  setting  out.  The  sea 
son  was  favorable,  for  it  was  the  last  of 
March,  and  by  the  first  of  April  he  hoped  to 
begin  his  journey.  He  found  able  helpers  in 


14  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

his  wife  and  elder  son.  The  brave  woman  was 
a  true  matron  of  our  heroic  days ;  and,  though 
her  heart  bled  at  leaving  forever  the  home  in 
which  her  happiest  years  had  been  spent,  she 
never  murmured.  Her  only  thought  was  to 
lighten  the  cares  that  had  fallen  upon  her  hus 
band  ;  and  she  proved,  in  this  trying  time,  the 
value  of  a  true  wife  and  Christian  woman. 
John,  the  eldest  child,  was  delighted  at  the 
change.  He  had  always  wished  to  be  an  In 
dian  hunter ;  and,  as  he  could  not  be  that  just 
yet,  he  was  glad  to  have  an  opportunity  to  see 
for  himself  something  of  pioneer  life,  boy-like, 
looking  always  upon  the  brightest  side  of  the 
picture. 

Well,  there  were  many  things  to  buy,  and 
very  little  to  buy  them  with.  The  seventy  odd 
pounds  left  from  the  sale  of  the  farm  were  in 
creased  to  a  hundred  by  the  sale  of  such  house 
hold  goods  as  Ihe  family  could  not  take  with 
them;  but  even  this  sum  proved  barely  suffi 
cient  to  procure  everything  necessary  for  the 
change.  There  were  provisions,  ammunition, 


LEAVING   THE    OLD   HOME.  15 

axes,  guns,  and  a  score  of  other  different  things 
to  purchase,  and  it  was  necessary  to  keep  a  lit 
tle  money  with  them  to  buy  such  things  as  they 
might  have  need  of  on  the  journey,  or  during 
their  first  season  in  their  new  home.  Of  the 
stock  on  the  farm,  Mr.  Oxenford  kept  only  the 
cow,  three  of  the  horses,  and  a  dog.  The  last 
was  the  children's  pet,  and  he  would  not  part 
with  it. 

Everything  was  in  readiness  at  last,  and,  at 
sunrise  on  the  first  day  of  April,  1773,  the  ad 
venturers  turned  their  backs  upon  their  old 
home,  which  they  were  never  to  see  again; 
and,  with  a  prayer  to  God  that  he  would  bless 
their  undertaking,  and  carry  them  safely 
through  the  perils  and  trials  before  them, 
set  their  faces  bravely  toward  the  wilder 
ness. 


1 6  PLANTING    THE   WILDERNESS. 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE   EMIGRANTS. 

MY  young  reader  may  think  it  a  very  easy 
and  very  pleasant  undertaking  to  journey  from 
the  Potomac  to  the  Ohio,  for  he  may  have 
ridden  over  the  route  in  the  comfortable 
coaches  of  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Railroad, 
or  the  Pennsylvania  Road;  b'ut  he  must  re 
member  that  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing 
was  long  before  the  invention  of  steam,  and 
even  before  the  stage  coaches  had  made  their 
appearance  west  of  the  seaboard.  At  that 
day  there  were  no  broad,  firm  roads  over  the 
mountains,  but  in  their  place  was  merely  the 
"trail,"  as  it  was  called,  left  by  the  ill-fated 
expedition  of  General  Braddock,  and  the  mil 
itary  trail  through  Pennsylvania,  by  way  of 
Bedford  and  Fort  Ligonier  to  Fort  Pitt,  the 
site  of  the  present  city  of  Pittsburg.  Very  few 


THE    EMIGRANTS.  Ij 

persons  took  the  latter  route,  as  it  was  the 
longer  of  the  two,  and  the  majority  followed 
Braddock's  road,  which,  though  the  more  dif 
ficult,  was  the  more  direct.  It  was  this  route 
that  the  Oxenfords  selected;  and,  after  leav 
ing  Loudon,  they  travelled  slowly  through  the 
adjoining  county  to  Winchester,  in  the  Valley 
of  Virginia,  then  a  mere  hamlet,  and  little  bet 
ter  than  a  frontier  post.  Here  Mr.  Oxenford 
purchased  a  few  articles  of  necessity,  which 
he  had  not  been  able  to  procure  at  such  short 
notice  on  the  Potomac,  and  the  journey  was 
resumed  in  the  direction  of  Fort  Cumberland, 
in  Maryland. 

The  three  horses  were  made  to  carry  the 
younger  children  and  the  household  goods  of 
the  family.  Two  of  them  were  provided  with 
pack-saddles,  upon  which  were  loaded  the 
articles  to  be  transported ;  and  the  youngest 
children,  who  could  not  walk,  were  placed 
in  hampers,  one  on  each  side  of  the  horse, 
and  the  hampers  were  made  fast  to  the  horse's 
saddle.  The  pack-horses  were  led  by  John, 
2 


l8  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

the  elder  son.  Thomas  and  Mary  drove  the 
cow  along,  Brindle  having  been  secured  against 
running  away  by  means  of  a  long  rope  which 
the  little  fellow  held  in  one  hand,  and  the  father 
led  the  horse  which  carried  the  children,  while 
the  mother  walked  by  his  side.  Thus  they 
travelled  towards  their  new  home.  They  made 
slow  progress  at  first ;  for  the  mother  and  chil 
dren  were  unused  to  walking,  and  could  not  go 
far  without  resting.  The  weather  was  un 
usually  fair,  and  it  seemed  as  if  Providence 
was  smiling  on  their  venture,  and  was  making 
the  way  as  pleasant  for  them  as  possible. 
Every  evening  towards  sunset,  having  reached 
some  suitable  place  for  passing  the  night,  the 
little  band  would  halt,  and  build  a  roaring  fire, 
and  the  mother,  with  the  assistance  of  the 
others,  would  prepare  supper,  which  was  often 
made  palatable  by  a  dish  of  game  which  the 
father  or  John  would  secure  during  the  day. 
Supper  over,  the  family  Bible  was  brought  out, 
and,  by  the  light  of  the  fire,  Thomas  Oxenford 
would  read  to  the  little  band  gathered  around 


THE    EMIGRANTS.  19 

him  those  blessed  words  which  can  give 
strength  to  the  weak  and  courage  to  the  faint 
hearted,  and  which  can  cheer  the  heart  when 
everything  human  has  failed.  Indeed,  I  think 
God's  Holy  Word  has  never  been  so  carefully 
and  constantly  read  by  any  persons  as  by  those 
who  "  planted  the  wilderness  "  in  the  early  days 
of  which  I  am  writing.  It  was  not  because  it 
was  the  only  book  they  had  that  they  studied 
its  pages  so  faithfully.  They  had  a  higher,  a 
more  powerful  motive.  They  felt  as  we,  their 
children,  rarely  feel,  the  power  of  the  Lord 
Jehovah,  and  their  need  of  his  aid.  They  had 
gone  out  trusting  in  him,  and  they  had  every 
day  proof  that  without  him  they  could  do  noth 
ing.  We,  with  our  comforts  and  "  modern  im 
provements,"  are  too  apt  to  forget,  and  still 
more  apt  to  fail  to  acknowledge,  this  depen 
dence.  But  our  forefathers  were  wiser  than 
we.  Having  finished  the  chapter,  Mr.  Oxen- 
ford  would  ask  God's  blessing  on  their  under 
taking,  and  his  guidance  on  their  lonely  way, 
and  then  the  dim  forest  would  ring  with  the 


2O  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

strains   of  some  sweet  old  hymn  —  words -they 
could  not  sing  without  tears ;  for  they  carried 
them  back  to  their  old  home,  which  they  would 
see  no  more  forever.     Then  they  went  to  rest 
—  the  children  wrapped  in  their  blankets,  and 
laid   on   beds    of  forest   leaves,   and   the  older 
members   of  the   family  finding   their  beds  on 
the  ground.     One  member  was  always  awake, 
to   keep   up  the   fire,    which   was   a   safeguard 
against  wild  beasts,  and  to  see  that  no  danger 
befell  the   sleepers.      This  duty  was   generally 
performed   by  the   parents    and  the   elder  son. 
John,  being  unused  to  vigils  such  as  these,  was 
given  what  the   sailors  call  the  w  dog  watch," 
or,    in   other  words,  he   stood  guard   from   the 
family   bed-time    till    ten    o'clock.       Then    his 
mother   relieved    him,    and    his    father   relieved 
her  at  two  o'clock,  giving  the  wife  and  son  the 
longest  times  for  sleep.     At   sunrise,  the  next 
day,    the    camp   was    astir,    and   the   day   was 
opened,  as  the  previous  one  had  closed,   with 
prayer   and   praise.     Then  followed  breakfast, 
after   which   the  journey  was  resumed. 


THE    EMIGRANTS.  21 

In  due  time,  Fort  Cumberland,  where  now 
stands  the  thriving  city  of  Cumberland,  in 
Maryland,  was  reached  and  passed,  and  in 
a  few  days  our  emigrants  had  crossed  the 
Monongehela,  near  its  junction  with  the  You- 
ghiogeny.  They  were  now  fairly  over  the 
Allegheny  Mountains,  and  were  very  near 
the  scene  of  Braddock's  defeat  in  Western 
Pennsylvania.  This  region  was  beginning 
to  attract  settlers ;  but  Mr.  Oxenford  was  de 
sirous  of  going  farther  west ;  so,  leaving  Brad- 
dock's  trail,  at  the  point  where  he  crossed  the 
Monongehela,  he  journeyed  towards  the  Ohio, 
which  he  reached,  a  few  days  later,  at  a  point 
about  twenty-five  miles  below  the  site  of  the 
present  city  of  Wheeling,  the  capital  of  the 
State  of  West  Virginia. 

It  so  happened  that  he  came  in  sight  of  the 
Ohio  near  the  mouth  of  Fish  Creek.  Pleased 
with  the  beauty  of  the  country,  and  detecting, 
at  a  glance,  —  for  he  was  a  thorough  farmer, 
—  the  good  qualities  of  the  soil,  he  determined 
to  make  this  section  his  home.  He  could  not 


22  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

have  chosen  a  better  time  for  his  first  view 
of  the  country.  It  was  the  middle  of  April, 
and  the  spring  was  far  advanced.  The  grass 
was  grown,  and  it  covered  the  whole  earth 
with  a  robe  of  the  richest  green  —  a  hue  which 
the  shade  of  the  hills  that  shut  in  the  valley 
seemed  to  deepen.  The  dogwood  blossoms 
were  out,  and  the  buttercups  and  wild  violets 
were  sparkling  all  through  the  grass.  The 
breeze  which  swept  down  from  the  hills  was 
balmy  and  sweet,  and  the  very  breath  of  it 
seemed  to  give  new  life  to  our  emigrants. 
They  paused  involuntarily  on  a  little  knoll 
commanding  a  distant  view  of  the  river  and 
creek,  and  simultaneously  they  exclaimed  that 
they  had  found  their  home.  It  had  been  twen 
ty  days  since  they  had  left  their  old  home  in 
Loudon,  and  now  they  had  reached  the  end 
of  their  wanderings. 

Deeming  it  imprudent  to  locate  himself  so 
near  the  river,  as  the  sight  of  his  dwelling,  when 
built,  might  prove  a  constant  temptation  to  the 
Indians  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Ohio,  Mr. 


THE    EMIGRANTS.  23 

Oxenford  determined  to  go  a  mile  or  so  farther 
up  the  creek ;  and,  following  the  shore,  they 
reached,  by  nightfall,  a  spot  about  six  miles 
from  the  river,  where  they  determined  to  locate 
themselves.  It  was  too  late,  however,  to  do 
anything  that  night,  and  the  family  went  to 
rest  early,  determined  to  rise  the  next  morn 
ing  with  the  lark,  and  lay  the  foundation  of 
their  future  home. 


24  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 


CHAPTER   III. 

BUILDING   AND    CLEARING. 

WORN  out  by  the  long  journey  and  the 
fatigue  of  the  previous  day,  Mr.  Oxenford,  to 
whom  was  assigned  the  morning  watch,  fell 
asleep  by  the  fire  towards  daybreak.  He  was 
aroused  by  some  one  placing  a  hand  on  his 
shoulder.  Starting  up  in  alarm,  he  seized 
his  gun,  and  looked  about  him.  There  was 
no  one  near  but  John,  who  was  laughing 
at  his  father's  alarm.  The  sun  was  shining 
brightly,  but  the  other  members  of  the  family 
were  still  sleeping. 

"Why,  father,"  said  John,  laughing,  "you 
look  as  though  you  expected  to  see  an  Indian." 

"To  tell  the  truth,  I  did,"  said  Mr.  Oxen- 
ford,  laying  down  his  gun  with  an  air  of  re 
lief.  "I  deserved  to  be  surprised  for  sleeping 
on  my  post.  It  is  the  first  time,  however,  and 


BUILDING    AND    CLEARING.  25 

it  shall  be  the  last.  But  what  are  you  so 
happy  about?" 

"  O,  father,"  cried  the  boy,  rubbing  his  hands, 
gleefully,"  the  creek  is  full  of  fish— full  offish." 

"We  shall  have  to  let  the  fish  alone  for  a 
while,  my  boy,"  said  Mr.  Oxenford.  "After 
we  get  our  house  started,  we  can  turn  our 
attention  to  the  fish.  Now  let  us  wake  your 
mother  and  the  children,  and  have  breakfast." 

Mrs.  Oxenford  and  her  children  were  soon 
awakened,  and  in  less  than  an  hour  they  were 
all  seated  at  breakfast,  having  washed  their 
faces  in  the  clear  waters  of  the  creek,  and  given 
thanks  to  the  Creator  for  his  goodness  to  them. 
Breakfast  over,  the  next  thing  was  to  prepare 
for  building  a  dwelling. 

The  family  had  encamped,  on  the  previous 
night,  upon  a  slight  hill,  at  a  distance  of  a 
few  hundred  yards  from  the  creek,  and  sloping 
down  to  it ;  and  Mr.  Oxenford  decided,  after  a 
brief  survey,  to  make  their  camping-ground 
the  site  of  their  home.  There  was  no  time  to 
be  lost  about  it,  and,  taking  his  axe,  the  settler 


26  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

commenced  to  clear  the  summit  of  the  hill. 
John  was  eager  to  assist  in  this  work,  and  as 
there  were  two  axes  at  hand,  his  father  gave 
him  one,  and  the  brave  boy  fell  to  work  with 
a  will.  He  was  well  grown  for  his  age,  and 
was  as  strong  as  a  young  bullock.  His  sturdy 
blows  told  well  on  the  trees,  and  he  managed 
his  work  so  well  that  he  bade  fair  to  rival  his 
father  in  the  task  before  them.  Two  days 
were  passed  in  this  manner,  and  on  the  morn 
ing  of  the  third  day,  Mr.  Oxenford  said  they 
had  cut  timber  enough,  and  must  now  proceed 
to  prepare  the  logs  for  building.  This  was 
another  two  days'  task,  and  on  the  morning  of 
the  fifth  day  they  had  piled  their  logs  ready 
for  use,  and  had  split  boards  or  slabs  enough 
from  the  larger  trees  to  form  the  roof  and  floor 
of  their  new  dwelling.  Then  came  the  clear 
ing  up  of  the  ground,  which  occupied  another 
day ;  and  the  sixth  day,  which  happened  to  be 
Saturday,  was  passed  in  boring  the,  logs  with 
an  auger,  wherever  it  was  necessary  to  do  so, 
and  making  wooden  pins  to  fasten  the  work 


BUILDING    AND    CLEARING.  27 

together,  for  there  were  no  nails  within  reach 
of  the  settlers.  Sunday  was  a  day  of  rest;  and, 
in  the  absence  of  a  church,  the  pious  father 
called  his  family  around  him,  and,  after  a 
prayer,  a  hymn,  and  a  chapter  from  the  Bible, 
spoke  to  them  upon  such  subjects  as  he  deemed 
most  appropriate  to  the  day  and  to  their  sit 
uation. 

Monday  morning  they  were  all  up  bright 
and  early.  The  ground  was  swept  free  from 
the  leaves  which  had  fallen  upon  it,  and  the 
father  and  mother  and  the  two  boys  com 
menced  to  build  the  house,  while  Mary,  the 
eldest  daughter,  looked  after  her  little  sisters. 
They  worked  bravely,  and  by  nightfall  they 
had  done  fully  half  the  work.  By  a  dexterous 
use  of  his  saw  and  hatchet,  Mr.  Oxenford  made 
the  logs  and  the  slab-floor  fit  admirably;  and 
Mrs.  Oxenford  and  the  boys  assisted  him  in 
arranging  them,  and  fastening  the  pins  in  their 
places.  There  was  an  abundance  of  stones, 
of  all  sizes,  along  the  shore  of  the  creek,  and 
these  furnished  the  means  of  constructing  a 


28  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

hearth  and  a  chimney,  while  the  mud,  which 
soon  hardened,  formed  a  very  handy  mortar  for 
holding  the  stones  together,  and  filling  up  the 
crevices  between  the  logs.  By  the  afternoon 
of  the  third  day,  Wednesday,  the  roof  was  on, 
and  the  house  almost  ready  for  occupancy. 

My  readers  must  not  imagine  that  this  was  a 
very  roomy  mansion,  or  that  the  task  of  build 
ing  it  was  a  very  light  one.  It  took  nearly  a 
fortnight  to  clear  the  ground,  and  build  the 
house,  which  was  nothing  more  than  a  plain 
log  cabin,  such  as  some  of  you  may  have  seen 
in  the  mountains,  or  in  the  far  south,  on 'the 
plantations.  It  had  but  two  rooms  on  the 
ground  floor,  and  a  loft  above,  which  was 
reached  by  means  of  a  rough  ladder,  which 
the  boys  made.  There  was  one  window  in  the 
side  looking  from  the  creek ;  but  as  such  a 
thing  as  window  glass  was  not  to  be  had,  the 
opening  was  closed  by  means  of  a  stout  slab 
shutter,  or  blind.  This  window  could  be  used 
for  the  purpose  of  giving  light  only  in  warm 
weather,  and  during  a  rain,  or  the  cold  season, 


BUILDING    AND    CLEARING.  29 

it  would  have  to  remain  closed.  The  floor  was 
made  of  rough  slabs,  partially  planed  down, — 
for  Mr.  Oxenford  had  been  thoughtful  enough 
to  bring  with  him  a  small  stock  of  carpenter's 
tools,  —  and  the  roof  was  constructed  of  heavy 
clapboards,  which  he  had  split  from  the  trees, 
and  the  underside  of  which  he  lined  with  a  kind 
of  thatching  of  pine  boughs  and  dry  grass.  To 
be  sure,  it  was  not  such  a  dwelling  as  they  had 
left  behind,  beyond  the  mountains ;  but  it  was 
a  shelter,  and  that  was  a  great  thing  to  persons 
who  had  been  living  in  the  open  air  for  more 
than  a  month.  The  walls  were  rough,  and  the 
long  streaks  of  mud  which  filled  the  crevices 
between  the  logs  looked  bad  enough ;  but,  on 
the  whole,  the  cabin  presented  a  tolerably  fair 
appearance,  and,  more  than  this,  it  was  the 
work  of  their  own  hands,  and  they  were  very 
well  satisfied  with  it.  Some  weeks  afterwards 
the  appearance  of  the  walls  was  improved  by 
nailing,  with  wooden  pins,  a  row  of  wooden 
strips  along  the  "chinks"  of  mud.  This  was 
also  an  additional  comfort,  as  it  made  the  cab- 


30  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

in  much  warmer.  The  door,  which  was  also 
made  of  slabs,  was  swung  on  a  wooden  hinge, 
and  fastened  by  day  with  a  latch,  and  at  night 
by  means  of  a  heavy  bar  cross  it  inside. 

Mrs.  Oxenford  had  been  careful  to  bring 
with  her  the  ticking  of  her  beds,  and  while  the 
cabin  was  building,  she  had  gathered  leaves 
and  dry  grass,  which  she  had  carefully  spread 
and  dried  again  in  the  sun ;  and  by  the  time 
the  cabin  was  finished,  she  had  collected  and 
dried  enough  to  make  beds  for  all  the  family. 
She  and  the  younger  boy  filled  the  tickings, 
and  carried  them  into  the  cabin,  where  they 
were  laid  on  the  floor,  and  on  Saturday  night 
the  little  family  had  the  satisfaction  of  sleeping 
in  their  new  home. 

The  next  Monday,  the  house  being  finished, 
Mr.  Oxenford  set  about  clearing  up  a  patch 
of  land,  in  order  to  plant  the  seed-corn  he  had 
brought  with  him.  It  was  early  in  May,  and 
he  was  in  good  season  for  his  planting.  He 
had  brought  with  him  a  supply  of  corn-meal, 
which  he  hoped  would  last,  by  careful  economy, 


BUILDING    AND    CLEARING.  31 

until  the  first  crop  should  be  grown.  He 
determined  to  locate  his  cornfield  in  the  bot 
tom  land,  bordering  on  the  creek,  rightly 
judging  that  this  low  land  was  richer  than 
that  on  the  hills.  He  selected  a  piece  about 
six  acres  in  extent,  —  a  very  respectable  plan 
tation  for  a  pioneer,  —  and  commenced  to  clear 
it  up.  Fortunately,  there  were  very  few  trees 
on  this  part  of  the  land.  It  was  covered 
mostly  with  a  low  undergrowth  of  weeds  and 
pawpaw  bushes,  w^hich  did  not  require  so 
much  exertion  as  the  cutting  down  of  trees.. 
The  work  to  be  done  consisted  principally  of 
what  the  farmers  call  "  grubbing ; "  and  even 
the  children  could  assist  in  this,  so  that  in 
another  week  the  land  was  ready  for  planting. 
The  trouble  now  was  to  make  a  plough ;  but 
John,  who  was  very  much  of  a  mechanical 
genius,  soon  remedied  this  by  taking  his  father's 
tools,  and  making  a  very  good  substitute  for  an 
iron  tiller  of  the  soil.  To  be  sure  the  plough 
had  a  wooden  point ;  but  then  the  boy  had  chosen 
a  piece  of  tough  maple,  and  had  done  his  work 


32  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

so  well  that  there  was  no  doubt  that  the  plough 
would  answer  for  one  season,  at  least.  The 
ground  was  soft,  and  almost  black  with  fertility, 
and  would  only  require  to  be  broken  a  little ; 
and  so,  though  it  was  slow  work,  John's  plough 
answered  the  purpose  admirably.  The  con 
struction  of  a  harrow  was  an  easier  task ;  and 
this  the  boy  performed  while  his  father  was 
ploughing  the  land.  He  fastened  the  triangular 
frame  of  the  harrow  with  wooden  pegs,  and 
made  the  teeth  of  stout  oaken  pins,  which  he 
drove  in  the  auger  holes  he  .had  bored  in  the 
frame.  The  harrow  answered  as  well  as  the 
plough,  and  by  the  twentieth  of  May  the  corn 
was  planted.  The  next  thing  in  order  was  to 
plant  the  potatoes  which  they  had  brought  out. 
An  acre  of  land  adjoining  the  cornfield  was 
laid  off,  and,  thanks  to  John's  plough  and  har 
row,  this  was  soon  planted.  • 

Meanwhile,  John  had  worked  hard.  He 
had  made  his  mother  a  table,  which  consisted 
of  a  large  slab  of  wood,  supported  on  four 
sticks,  two  at  each  end,  stuck  in  as  many  auger 


BUILDING    AND    CLEARING.  33 

holes.  This  answered  for  their  meals,  and  for 
the  household  work.  They  had  brought  out 
their  cooking  utensils  and  some  tin  ware  with 
them,  and  were  well  supplied  with  these  articles. 
John  made  stools,  which  were  miniature  copies 
of  the  table,  and  a  row  of  shelves,  which  he 
put  up  with  creditable  neatness.  He  drove  a 
row  of  pegs  along  the  wall,  to  answer  the  place 
of  a  clothes-press,  and  helped  his  father  to  make 
a  rough  bedstead  for  each  of  their  three  beds. 
These  things  were  done  during  such  moments 
as  they  could  spare  from  other  work,  and  by 
the  beginning  of  the  summer  they  had  provided 
almost  everything  that  was  absolutely  necessary 
to  their  comfort.  To  be  sure,  these  things  were 
very  rough,  but  they  answered  their  purpose, 
and  that  was  all  that  was  required  of  them. 

By  this  time  a  little  patch  had  been  laid  off 
for  a  garden,  and  planted  with  such  garden 
seed  as  they  had  brought  with  them.  Their 
corn-meal  continued  to  hold  out,  and  the  fish  in 
the  creek  proved  to  be  of  the  finest  kind,  such 
as  "jack,"  bass,  and  pike,  with  an  abundance 
3 


34  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

of  fresh-water  herrings  and  suckers.  The 
boys  attended  to  this  -duty,  and  rarely  a  day 
passed  that  they  did  not  bring  in  a  fine  mess 
with  their  little  seine. 

The  cow,  the  horses,  and  the  pigs  —  for  I 
had  forgotten  to  mention  that  the  family  had 
brought  with  them  a  pair  of  fine  swine  for  the 
purpose  of  raising  their  pork  —  were  kept  up, 
the  pigs  in  a  pen,  and  the  other  animals  tied 
to  trees.  The  land  afforded  the  best  possible 
grazing,  and  to  little  Thomas,  who  was  too 
young  to  do  much  of  the  work  allotted  to  the 
rest,  was  given  the  task  of  seeing  that  the 
animals  were  fed  and  watered,  and  prevented 
from  running  off. 

John,  as  I  have  said,  was  a  good-sized  boy. 
He  could  handle  the  plough,  the  carpenter's 
tools,  and  the  rifle,  almost  as  well  as  his  father ; 
and,  as  I  have  shown,  he  was  of  the  greatest 
assistance  to  his  parents.  His  disposition  was 
lively  and  cheerful,  and  no  matter  how  hard 
was  his  work,  he  was  never  cast  down. 
Everything  seemed  bright  and  cheering  to  him. 


BUILDING    AND    CLEARING.  35 

He  said  he  meant  to  persevere,  and  that  after 
a  while  the  country  would  be  settled,  and  he 
would  make  a  fortune,  and  build  a  fine  house 
where  they  had  located  their  cabin  —  a  resolu 
tion  which  he  literally  carried  out  fifty  years 
later. 

One  morning,  soon  after  their  arrival  at  Fish 
Creek,  Mrs.  Oxenford  saw  John  come  up  to 
the  cabin  quickly,  take  his  gun  and  go  off 
silently  and  rapidly.  His  father's  orders  against 
wasting  ammunition  were  very  strict,  and  as 
she  saw  the  eager  look  on  the  boy's  face,  she 
felt  a  momentary  alarm,  for  fear  there  was 
danger  from  the  Indians.  She  called  after  John 
to  come  back ;  but  he  was  too  far  to  hear  her, 
and  she  stood  in  the  cabin  door,  watching  him 
as  he  disappeared  into  the  woods,  and  anxiously 
waiting  to  learn  what  would  follow.  In  a 
few  minutes  she  heard  the  report  of  his  rifle, 
followed  by  a  loud  hurrah,  in  a  tone  so  gleeful 
that  it  dispelled  her  fear  at  once ;  and  the  next 
instant  John  dashed  out  of  the  woods,  dragging 
something  after  him,  and,  coming  towards  his 


36  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

mother  at  full  speed,  laid  in  triumph  at  her  feet 
an  immense  wild  turkey. 

"  I  killed  him  myself,  mother,"  said  the  boy, 
proudly.  "Isn't  he  a  fine  fellow?  And  look, 
what  a  splendid  shot;  I  aimed  for  his  eye, 
and  I've  hit  him  fair  in  the  head." 

It  was,  indeed,  a  "  fine  fellow,"  and  the  boy 
had  a  right  to  be  proud.  He  had  seen  the 
turkey  in  the  woods,  and  had  determined  on 
securing  it.  It  was  their  first  game  since  their 
arrival,  and  it  lasted  them  for  nearly  three  days. 
After  this,  they  had  an  abundance  of  game, 
consisting  of  wild  turkeys,  squirrels,  and,  once 
or  twice,  a  deer.  The  country  was  full  of 
such  provisions,  and  Mr.  Oxenford  said,  after  he 
had  finished  clearing  up  his  place,  he  would 
set  to  work  to  lay  in  a  supply  of  venison. 

Thus  the  weeks  passed  away.  Every  one 
worked,  —  for  there  was  no  room  for  idlers  in 
such  a  community,  —  and  by  the  middle  of 
August  they  had  built  and  furnished  their  cabin, 
and  a  stable,  which  they  thatched  with  pine 
boughs,  for  the  horses  and  the  cow,  and  which 


THE  YOUNG  HUNTER'S  FIRST  WILD  TURKEY.     Page  36. 


BUILDING    AND    CLEARING.  37 

they  located  but  a  few  yards  from  the  house. 
Adjoining  the  stable  they  built  a  crib,  in  which 
to  stow  away  their  corn  for  the  winter,  after  it 
was  harvested,  and  had  commenced  to  form  a 
wood-pile  near  the  cabin,  which  should  consti 
tute  their  stock  of  fuel  for  the  winter. 


38  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    SETTLEMENT. 

LITTLE  Thomas  had  taken  the  cattle  out 
to  graze,  one  morning,  and  half  an  hour  after 
his  departure  he  came  running  back  at  full 
speed. 

"  Father,  father,"  he  shouted,  "  come  see 
the  big  cow  that's  down  at  the  creek.  Come 
quick ! " 

Mr.  Oxenford  took  down  his  rifle  from  the 
bracket  on  the  wall,  and,  following  the  little 
fellow,  who  was  eager  to  act  as  guide,  has 
tened  down  to  the  creek.  As  he  came  in  sight 
of  it,  he  saw  a  large  buffalo  drinking  at  the 
water's  edge.  The  animal  was  utterly  uncon 
scious  of  the  presence  of  a  human  being,  and 
was  drinking  leisurely.  Mr.  Oxenford  had 
suspected  the  nature  of  the  stranger  as  soon 
as  his  son  had  called  it  a  cow,  and  he  was 


THE    SETTLEMENT.  39 

eager  to  secure  the  prize.  Bidding  Thomas 
conceal  himself  behind  a  tree,  and  keep  very 
still,  he  crept  cautiously  towards  the  animal, 
until  he  came  within  easy  range  of  it.  Then, 
taking  his  position  where  he  could  see  without 
being  seen  by  the  beast,  he  prepared  to  take 
advantage  of  its  movements.  The  buffalo, 
however,  seemed  in  no  hurry ;  for  when  he 
had  finished  drinking,  he  walked  into  the 
creek  a  little  way,  and  stood  with  the  water 
reaching  to  his  keees,  as  if  to  cool  his  legs 
and  hoofs,  for  the  day  was  warm.  Mr.  Oxen- 
ford  feared  he  would  continue  his  course,  swim 
the  creek,  and  thus  escape  him ;  but  this  fear 
was  soon  dispelled,  for  the  animal  turned 
quietly,  and  came  back  to  the  shore.  Paus 
ing  there  for  a  moment,  he  lowered  his  head 
to  cross  the  fresh  grass  that  grew  close  to  the 
water.  Now  was  the  hunter's  opportunity, 
and,  aiming  his  rifle  carefully,  Mr.  Oxenford 
fired.  The  ball  struck  the  buffalo  just  back 
of  the  ear,  and  the  huge  animal  fell  over  on 
his  side,  struggling  feebly,  and  trying  to  rise. 


40  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

The  next  moment  Mr.  Oxenford  had  drawn  his 
hunting-knife  across  its  throat,  making  a  deep 
gash  from  ear  to  ear,  from  which  the  blood 
gushed  in  a  perfect  stream.  The  buffalo 
ceased  his  struggles,  and,  with  a  spasmodic 
quiver,  fell  back  dead.  He  was  a  huge  ani 
mal,  and  would  have  been  worth  a  small  for 
tune  to  a  butcher  in  these  modern  days  of  high 
prices ;  and  Mr.  Oxenford  resolved  that  he 
would  get  the  full  value  of  the  brute. 

Going  back  to  the  cabin,  he  removed  his 
outer  garments,  that  he  might  not  soil  them, 
and  took  the  largest  tin  pail,  and  the  hatchet, 
which  he  meant  to  use  in  place  of  a  cleaver, 
and,  calling  John  to  help  him,  went  back  to 
the  spot  where  he  had  left  the  buffalo.  The 
father  and  son  were  novices  in  the  task  before 
them ;  but  they  went  at  it  with  a  determina 
tion  that  made  up  for  their  lack  of  practice, 
and  by  sunset  they  had  stripped  the  animal  of 
his  hide,  and  had  cut  off  all  the  meat  that  they 
could  use  for  the  present,  and  a  large  quantity 
that  they  designed  for  curing.  The  hide  and 


THE    SETTLEMENT.  4! 

horns  were  carefully  washed  and  put  away, 
and  the  remains  of  the  animal  were  cast  into 
the  creek,  where  they  either  sank  from  sight 
or  floated  away  on  the  current.  They  had  a 
fine  breakfast  and  dinner  the  next  day  on 
"Tom's  cow,"  as  they  called  it;  and  what  could 
not  be  kept  for  use  next  day  —  and  this  was 
fully  nine  tenths  of  the  meat  —  was  suspended 
from  a  young  sapling  over  a  smoke  made  by 
a  quantity  of  green  hickory  chips  being  heaped 
on  a  slow  fire.  This  process  of  curing  was 
very  simple  and  easily  performed,  and  by 
means  of  it  they  were  able  to  preserve  their 
meat  for  use  whenever  they  needed  it.  In  this 
same  way  they  cured  much  venison  during 
the  year. 

It  lacked  but  four  weeks  until  the  harvest 
ing  season,  when  a  trouble,  which  had  not 
been  foreseen,  occurred. 

"Thomas,"  said  Mrs.  Oxenford,  one  day, 
her  face  wearing  a  graver  look  than  it  had 
ever  worn,  "what  shall  we  do  for  bread?  Our 
corn-meal  is  gone,  and  we  can  get  no  more 
until  the  harvest." 


42  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

"We'll  have  to  live  on  meat  until  then,  old 
lady,"  said  her  husband,  cheerily.  "W've  got 
a  plenty  of  that,  I  am  glad  to  know,  and 
there's  no  danger  of  our  starving." 

Those  of  my  readers  who  have  never  been 
compelled  to  go  without  bread  can  hardly  tell 
what  it  is  to  be  deprived  of  it.  The  Oxenfords 
were  not  slow  in  finding  out  that  it  was  in 
deed  the  "  staff  of  life."  After  living  on  meat 
alone  for  several  days,  it  became  sickening  and 
distasteful  to  them,  and  at  the  end  of  a  week 
they  became  sickly.  Their  stomachs  were 
always  uncomfortable ;  that  is,  they  had  a  feel 
ing  of  emptiness,  and  were,  always  tormented 
by  a  sensation  of  hunger.  John,  who  always 
tried  to  make  the  best  of  their  troubles,  called 
the  lean  breast  of  the  wild  turkey  bread,  and 
the  other  flesh,  such  as  venison  and  dried 
beef,  meat ;  but  though  they  tried  to  be  satis 
fied  with  the  substitute,  none  of  them  could 
fully  withstand  the  consequences  of  the  ab 
sence  of  the  real  bread.  How  anxiously  they 
watched  the  cornfield  and  the  little  garden  for 


THE    SETTLEMENT.  43 

the  first  roasting  ears  and  vegetables !  and 
what  a  jubilee  they  had  when  John  brought 
in  the  first  ear  of  young  corn,  and  his  father 
said  they  would  now  have  roasting  ears  and 
boiled  corn  until  the  harvest  came  !  This  was 
an  improvement  on  their  previous  situation, 
and  was,  soon  followed  by  the  ripening  of  the 
vegetables  in  the  garden.  Every  one  began 
to  grow  strong  and  vigorous  again. 

As  the  harvest  drew  near,  a  new  difficulty 
presented  itself  to  the  family.  They  would 
have  plenty  of  corn ;  but  how  were  they  to 
convert  it  into  meal?  This  question  was  soon 
settled  by  Mrs.  Oxenford,  who  suggested  a 
plan  which  afterwards  was  put  into  execution. 
Taking  one  of  the  tin  pails,  Mr.  Oxenford, 
at  his  wife's  suggestion,  carefully  removed 
the  bottom,  and  then,  cutting  the  side  of  the 
remainder,  he  laid  the  sheet  of  tin  out  flat 
on  a  board,  and  by  means  of  a  punch  cut  a 
number  of  holes  in  the  sheet.  In  this  way 
he  made  a  sort  of  rude  grater,  and  bending  it 
to  a  semicircular  form,  he  nailed  it  to  a  block 


44  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

of  wood  with  bits  of  nails  made  from  the  wire 
which  had  formed  the  handle  of  the  pail.  Af 
ter  the  harvest  was  gathered  in,  this  primitive 
mill  was  tried,  and  it  was  found  to  answer  tol 
erably  well.  The  corn  was  taken  in  the  ear, 
and  rubbed  over  the  rough  side  of  the  grater, 
and  was  thus  grated  to  a  fineness  sufficient  for 
the  manufacture  of  johnny-cakes  an$  coarse 
pones,  or  pieces  of  corn-bread  worked  and 
shaped  with  the  hands.  The  meal  made  by 
the  use  of  this  grater  was  not  as  fine  as  that 
they  had  brought  with  them  from  the  old 
colony ;  but  still  it  was  meal,  and  gave  them 
bread. 

The  harvest  was  gathered  in  in  due  time, 
and  it  was  bountiful,  proving  far  more  than 
would  be  sufficient  for  the  family  until  the  next 
season.  The  corn  was  husked  and  piled  up 
in  the  "crib,"  which  barely  held  it,  and  the 
potatoes  were  stowed  away,  when  gathered, 
in  a  cellar  which  was  dug  near  the  house. 
The  fodder  was  stacked  close  by  the  stable, 
and  this,  with  the  corn-husks,  gave  the  assur- 


THE    SETTLEMENT.  45 

ance  of  a  plentiful  supply  of  provender  for 
the  cattle,  and  there  remained  nothing  but  to 
prepare  the  wood-pile  for  the  winter;  and  by 
the  time  the  cold  weather  had  fairly  set  in, 
this,  too,  was  accomplished.  So,  one  bright 
autumn  morning,  when  the  harvest  was  in,  and 
everything  was  in  readiness  for  the  long  win 
ter  which  was  coming,  Mr.  Oxenford  declared 
they  would  devote  one  day  to  rest  from  all 
labor,  and  make  it  the  occasion  for  returning 
thanks  to  the  Almighty  for  the  blessings  he 
had  showered  upon  them.  This  was  done, 
and  it  was  the  first  "  Thanksgiving  Day  "  ob 
served  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio.  They  had 
everything  to  be  thankful  for.  The  Lord's 
hand  had  led  them  to  one  of  the  most  desira 
ble  portions  of  the  west,  and  had  kept  them 
safely  ever  since.  There  had  been  no  sickness 
in  their  midst,  and  they  had  been  called  upon 
to  endure  only  the  ordinary  hardships  of  the 
settler's  life.  They  had  been  successful  in  all 
their  undertakings,  and  were  now  in  a  condi 
tion  to  look  forward  to  the  winter  without 
dreading  it. 


46  PLANTING    THE   WILDERNESS. 

Thomas  Oxenford  was  especially  grateful. 
At  the  beginning  of  the  spring  he  was  with 
out  a  home  for  his  family,  and  the  owner  of 
but  a  little  over  seventy  pounds  sterling.  Now 
he  had  made  a  home  for  his  little  flock,  and 
was  the  proprietor  of  four  hundred  acres  of 
the  land  surrounding  his  cabin,  which  was 
the  freehold  given  by  the  laws^f  the  colony 
to  every  settler  who  should  build  a  house  and 
raise  a  crop  of  grain  on  any  unoccupied  land 
west  of  the  Allegheny  Mountains.  Besides 
this,  his  act  of  settlement  gave  him  a  pre-emp 
tion  right  to  one  thousand  acres  more  of  the 
adjoining  land ;  and  all  that  remained  for  him 
to  do  was  to  fix  upon  the  boundaries  of  his 
land,  so  as  to  avoid  difficulties  with  the  settlers 
who  might  follow  him.  It  was  true  that  this 
land  had  yet  to  be  cleared  up  and  cultivated, 
and  that  this  involved  much  toil  and  hardship 
for  his  family ;  but  still  they  had  a  home,  and 
the  certainty  of  making  a  livelihood,  however 
plain  and  humble  it  might  be. 

The   "Thanksgiving  Day"  was   drawing   to 


THE    SETTLEMENT.  47 

a  close,  and  the  little  family  were  gathered 
around  their  evening  meal,  —  for  this  was  al 
ways  served  before  dark  in  those  days,  — when 
they  were  startled  by  a  loud  "  halloo "  from 
without.  It  had  been  so  long  since  they  had 
heard  any  human  voices  but  their  own,  that 
they  started  to  their  feet  in  alarm,  and  rushed 
to  the  door.  Their  astonishment  was  complete 
when  they  saw,  standing  a  few  yards  from 
them,  a  party  of  men,  women,  and  children 
and  seven  or  eight  horses,  loaded  with  goods 
of  various  kinds.  The  sight  was  so  novel  and 
unexpected  that  both  parties  stared  at  each 
other  for  some  moments  in  silence.  At  last 
Mr.  Oxenford  went  forward,  and,  greeting  the 
new  comers  cordially,  —  for  he  was  glad  to  see 
some  of  his  own  species  besides  his  family  after 
so  long  an  absence  from  them,  —  asked,  — 

"Well,  my  friends,  what  are  you  doing 
here?" 

"  We  came  here  to  settle,  stranger,"  said 
one  of  the  men;  "but  it  seems  you've  got 
ahead  of  us." 


48  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

"  There's  land  enough  for  all  of  us,  and 
many  more,"  said  Mr.  Oxenford,  laughing,  in 
spite  of  himself,  at  the*  disappointment  evinced 
by  the  man.  "  You  shall  all  stay  here  with 
us  to-night,  and  to-morrow  we'll  see  what  we 
can  do." 

The  new  comers  were  emigrants  from  the 
upper  portion  of  Maryland  and  Virginia,  and 
consisted  of  four  families,  numbering  in  all 
about  twenty-six  people,  of  whom  ten  were 
men  and  half-grown  boys.  The  heads  of  these 
families  were  people  in  the  prime  of  life,  —  the 
very  best  material  for  pioneers,  —  and  there 
were  no  very  young  children  in  the  party. 
They  had  met  by  accident  while  crossing  the 
mountains,  and  had  concluded  to  cast  their 
lot  together,  rather  than  separate,  thinking 
rightly  that  they  could  accomplish  more  by 
united  than  by  independent  exertions.  They 
had  supposed  they  were  the  first  who  had  pen 
etrated  this  region,  until  they  saw  the  clear 
ing  and  cabin  of  Mr.  Oxenford,  and  were 
astonished  to  find  such  deep  traces  of  civil- 


THE    SETTLEMENT.  49 

ization  where  they  expected  to  see  nothing 
but  the  wilderness,  and  they,  were  profuse 
in  their  praise  of  the  settlers'  industry  and 
energy.  They,  brought  with  them  an  abun 
dance  of  provisions,  and  among  other  things 
had  a  large  quantity  of  salt,  which  they 
agreed  to  share  with  the  Oxenfords  for  a  sup 
ply  of  their  corn. 

The  women  and  youngest  children  were 
made  comfortable  in  the  cabin  during  the 
night,  and  the  male  portion  of  the  little  com 
munity  encamped  in  the  yard,  for  the  weather 
was  still  sufficiently  mild  and  favorable  for 
them  to  do  so.  The  new  comers  had  just  left 
the  older -colonies,  and  they  had  an  abundance 
of  news  to  communicate.  The  troubles  with 
the  mother  country  were  then  agitating  the 
new  world,  and  the  emigrants  were  loud  in 
their  denunciation  of  the  course  pursued  by 
Great  Britain.  One  family  had  come  from  the 
neighborhood  in  which '  the  Oxenfords  had 
lived,  and  were  able  to  tell  them  about  their 
friends  east  of  the  mountains.  The  night  was 

4 


50       PLANTING  THE  WILDERNESS. 

far  spent  when  they  sought  their  beds,  and 
each  felt  grateful  to  Providence  for  having 
drawn  them  together. 

The  next  morning  they  were  up  early,  and, 
breakfast  over,  the  heads  of  the  different  fami 
lies  assembled  with  Mr.  Oxenford  to  consult 
as  to  their  future  movements.  It  was  agreed 
that  it  was  impossible  for  any  one  to  cultivate 
all  the  land  to  which  he  was  entitled,  and  that 
it  would  be  better  for  them  to  unite  in  clearing 
up  a  number  of  acres,  and  cultivate  that  in 
common  until  they  were  fairly  settled.  They 
could  lay  off  their  lands,  and  after  they  had 
thoroughly  arranged  their  settlement  they  could 
divide  the*  land  and  cultivate  it  separately. 
This  arrangement  would  be  in  force  for  about 
one  or  two  years,  and  should  their  settlement 
be  increased  in  the  mean  while  by  the  addition 
of  other  emigrants,  they  could  pursue  a  similar 
plan  towards  them.  Acting  upon  this  conclu 
sion,  they  at  once  proceeded  to  lay  off  their 
lands ;  and  as  they  were  all  practical  farmers, 
they  succeeded  in  forming  a  proximate  idea  of 


THE    SETTLEMENT.  5! 

the  quantity  of  land  necessary  to  make  up  four 
hundred  acres  to  each  man.  They  wisely 
determined  that  their  farms  should  have  a 
narrow  frontage  on  the  creek,  which  would 
bring  them  nearer  together,  and  that  their 
length  should  be  the  longer  line  of  boundary. 
This  mode  of  arrangement  made  the  Oxen- 
ford  farm  the  centre  of  the  little  settlement, 
and  it  was  determined  to  cultivate  the  creek 
line  first.  This  would  enable  them  to  join 
their  fields  to  that  commenced  by  Mr.  Ox- 
enford,  and  they  could  all  cultivate  them  in 
common.  The  sites  chosen  for  their  cabins 
were  all  on  the  ridge  upon  which  the  original 
settlers  had  built  theirs,  and  were  located  at 
such  easy  distances  that  the  farthest  on  the 
right  and  left  hand  —  the  original  cabin  being 
the  centre  —  was  only  half  a  mile  from  the 
Oxenfords.  The  boundaries  of  the  different 
"claims,"  as  they  were  called,  were  marked 
by  cutting  the  trees  in  a  straight  line  for  a 
distance  of  half  a  mile  back  from  the  creek. 
When  these  preliminaries  were  arranged, 


52  PLANTING    THE   WILDERNESS. 

the  settlers  prepared  to  clear  up  their  land  for 
building.  Instead  of  working  separately  at 
this,  they  decided  to  unite.  Lots  were  then 
drawn  to  determine  whose  house  should  be 
built  first,  and,  having  settled  this  matter,  all 
turned  in  with  a  will,  and  commenced  the 
building.  Mr.  Oxenford  and  John  lent  a  will 
ing  assistance  in  this  work,  and  this  made  a 
force  of  twelve  workers.  After  the  trees  were 
felled,  and  the  logs  prepared,  it  was  found 
that  this  force  was  too  much  for  one  cabin, 
and  it  was  divided  into  parties  of  six  each, 
and  in  this  way  two  cabins  were  put  up  at 
the  same  time.  In  a  week  all  the  cabins 
were  finished,  and  the  little  settlement  had 
begun  to  assume  a  thriving  and  spirited  ap 
pearance.  The  next  week  was  given  to  build 
ing  the  stables  and  such  out-houses  as  were 
necessary.  The  buildings  were  all  situated 
on  the  brow  of  the  ridge  that  lay  back  at  a 
distance  of  several  hundred  yards  from  the 
creek,  and  almost  sixty  yards  from  the  woods. 
They  were  all  in  sight  of  each  other,  and  as 


THE    SETTLEMENT.  53 

the  new  emigrants  proved  pleasant  and  indus- 
triou$  people,  Mr.  Oxenford  was  glad  that  his 
family  would  now  have  something  to  relieve 
the  loneliness  that  all  of  them  were  beginning 
to  feel. 

Later  in  the  season  other  families  arrived  at 
the  settlement,  and  most  of  these  went  over  to 
the  south  side  of  Fish  Creek,  where  they 
built  their  dwellings  and  cleared  their  land, 
so  that  by  the  time  the  winter  had  fairly  set 
in,  the  settlement  had  increased  to  ten  fami 
lies,  or,  in  all,  to  nearly  sixty  persons. 

The  Oxenfords  had,  during  this  time,  done 
much  to  improve  their  Condition .  They  had 
made  themselves  comfortable  by  the  addition 
of  a  considerable  amount  of  home-made  furni 
ture,  which  I  am  inclined  to  think  my  young- 
readers  would  consider  very  uncomfortable. 
After  the  harvest  they  had  emptied  their  beds 
of  their  fillings  of  leaves  and  grass,  and  had 
replaced  them  with  the  soft,  dry  husks  of  the 
corn.  This  made  an  excellent  bed,  and  was 
a  great  improvement  upon  the  leaves. 


54  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

At  last  the  cold  weather  set  in.  The  win 
ter  is  long  and  bleak  in  this  portion  of  the 
Ohio  Valley,  and  it  was  fortunate  that  the 
settlers  had  succeeded  in  making  their  prepa 
rations  to  withstand  it.  The  wood-piles  now 
became  more  valuable  in  the  eyes  of  their 
owners  than  they  had  ever  supposed  they 
would  be.  Having  their  fuel  cut  and  piled 
at  their  doors,  they  were  saved  the  trouble  of 
cutting  and  hauling  it  in  the  deep  snows. 

The  first  snow  was  a  treat  to  the  younger 
members  of  the  community,  for,  though  they 
were  pioneers,  they  were  still  boys,  and  were 
as  fond  of  sport  as  any  of  those  of  the  pres 
ent  day.  John  Oxenford  was  a  great  author 
ity  among  them,  though  several  of  them  were 
older  than  he,  for  his  mechanical  skill  and 
ingenuity  were  greater  than  those  of  his  fel 
lows  ;  and  when  the  snow  came,  he  proposed 
that  they  should  make  sledges  at  once,  so 
that  they  might  have  as  much  sport  at  coast 
ing  as  they  had  enjoyed  in  their  old  homes. 
The  proposal  was  caught  up  eagerly,  and  in 


THE    SETTLEMENT.  55 

spite  of  the  cold  and  the  blinding  flakes,  the 
boys  started  out,  hatchet  in  hand,  to  cut  hick 
ory  saplings  for  runners,  and  by  nightfall 
they  made  full  half  a  dozen  sledges.  They 
were  very  rough,  but  they  were  strong,  and 
the  hickory  runners  were  scraped  as  smooth 
as  glass.  I  think  the  young  people  of  to-day, 
with  their  handsome  "coasters,"  with  brightly- 
painted  sides,  cushioned  seats,  and  steel  run 
ners,  would  consider  these  frontier  sledges  but 
a  sorry  show ;  but  I  doubt  that  they  derive 
any  more  enjoyment  from  their  costly  toys 
than  did  these  sturdy  little  pioneers  with  their 
home-made  substitutes.  The  next  day  the 
snow  ceased  falling,  and  the  clouds  cleared 
off,  and  with  a  shout  the  boys  started  for  the 
hill-side,  where  they  were  soon  dashing  down 
the  slope  at  a  speed  which  made  their 
mothers  —  who  watched  them  from  the  cabin 
doors  —  tremble  for  their  limbs ;  but  nobody 
was  hurt.  The  boys  had  their  fun.  The 
sledges  were  stout,  and  well  made,  and  there 
were  no  broken  bones  to  mend.  A  few  bruises 


56  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

were  gotten  by  some,  but  they  were  nothing. 
And  then,  such  fun  as  the  youngsters  had 
with  their  snow-balls  !  It  was  a  real  treat  to 
see  them. 

"  Now,  fellows,"  said  John  Oxenford,  when 
the  snow  was  gone,  "we  must  get  our  traps 
ready  for  the  next  snow-fall.  There'll  be  lots 
of  rabbits  about,  and  they'll  come  in  very 
handy,  father  says." 

So  it  was  arranged ;  and  when  the  ground 
was  white  again  with  the  soft  flakes,  the  traps 
were  set.  The  first  day  passed  away  without 
success.  Big  Dan  Whittaker,  the  son  of  one 
of  the  settlers,  was  the  first  to  catch  a  rabbit, 
and  the  boys  were  wild  with  delight.  There 
was  no  envy  of  Dan's  success  among  the 
little  fellows.  Boys  are  slow  to  grudge  each 
other  a  triumph  fairly  won.  Every  one  liked 
Dan,  for,  awkward  and  overgrown  as  he  was, 
he  was  the  very  impersonation  of  generos 
ity  and  good  nature.  He  was  John  Oxen- 
ford's  sworn  friend,  and  the  two  were  insepa 
rable.  They  were  like  David  and  Jonathan, 


THE    SETTLEMENT.  57 

and  I  am  sure  Dan  would  have  risked  his 
life,  willingly,  to  do  John  a  service,  and  John 
was  equally  as  devoted.  If  one  made  a  paw 
paw  whistle,  or  found  a  lot  of  ripe  nuts,  he 
was  sure  to  make  a  similar  provision  for  the 
other;  and  wherever  you  saw  one,  you  might 
be  sure  the  other  was  close  at  hand. 

During  the  winter,  the  supply  of  salt  was 
found  to  be  running  low,  and  it  became  neces 
sary  to  send  to  the  settlement  at  Wheeling, 
about  twenty-five  miles  higher  up  the  Ohio 
River,  for  more.  Mr.  Oxenford  and  Mr. 
Brady  were  chosen  to  go  after  it,  and  they 
set  out  about  the  middle  of  January,  taking- 
advantage  of  a  temporary  absence  of  snow. 
They  reached  the  little  hamlet  of  Wheeling, 
which  had  been  settled  a  few  years  before, 
about  dark  on  the  day  after  their  departure 
from  Fish  Creek.  They  found  the  'place  full 
of  rumors  of  trouble  with  the  Indians.  It  was 
said  that  the  governor  of  the  colony,  Lord 
Dunmore,  was  bent  upon  destroying  the 
savages  as  soon  as  the  weather  should  be 


58  PLANTING    THE   WILDERNESS. 

favorable  enough  for  the  movement  of  the 
troops.  This  news  filled  Mr.  Oxenford  with 
grave  uneasiness,  and  he  sought  an  interview 
with  the  officer  in  command  of  Fort  Fincastle, 
which  was  the  name  given  to  the  work  — 
afterwards  known  as  Fort  Henry  —  that  had 
been  erected  for  the  defence  of  the  village. 
He  explained  to  the  commandant  the  exposed 
situation  of  the  settlement  on  Fish  Creek,  and 
asked  his  advice  as  to  the  best  course  to  be 
pursued  by  himself  and  his  neighbors. 

Colonel  Shepherd,  the  commandant  of  the 
fort,  informed  him  that  the  rumors  he  had 
heard  were,  unfortunately,  true,  and  that  there 
was  no  doubt  that  the  Indians  would  cause 
considerable  trouble  on  the  frontier  in  the 
spring,  if,  indeed,  they  did  not  do  so  before 
the  close  of  the  winter.  He  advised  Mr.  Ox 
enford  to  urge  upon  his  neighbors  the  pro 
priety  of  establishing  some  means  of  defence, 
such  as  the  building  of  a  fort  or  stockade, 
and  as  a  means  of  assisting  him  in  this  under 
taking,  the  colonel  carried  him  over  the  work 


THE    SETTLEMENT.  59 

under  his  command,  and  gave  him  some 
general  ideas  upon  the  subject.  The  colonel 
was  an  old  soldier,  and  had  seen  service  in 
the  French  wars,  and  his  opinions  were  of 
value  to  the  settlers,  who  determined  that  they 
would  spare  no  effort  to  urge  them  upon  their 
neighbors. 

The  salt  was  obtained  at  a  reasonable  sum, 
and  the  next  day  the  two  settlers  returned 
to  Fish  Creek,  which  they  reached  about 
nightfall. 


60  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 


CHAPTER    V. 

THE     FORT. 

THE  morning  after  the  return  of  the  two 
settlers  from  Wheeling,  a  meeting  of  all  the 
adult  males  in  the  little  settlement  was  held  at 
Mr.  Oxenford's  cabin,  and  that  gentleman  re 
vealed  to  his  neighbors  the  information  he  had 
received  from  Colonel  Shepherd.  Since  their 
arrival  at  Fish  Creek  they  had  seen  no  one  from 
the  other  settlements,  and  were  in  total  igno 
rance  of  the  condition  of  affairs  in  the  rest  of 
the  country.  They  had  been  unmolested  by 
the  Indians,  not  one  of  whom  had  appeared  at 
the  settlement,  and  could  hardly  believe  the 
truth  of  Colonel  Shepherd's  statement,  that  the 
savages  were  becoming  very  troublesome  on 
the  border.  Still,  they  agreed  that  it  would  be 
most  prudent  to  take  some  measure  of  a  de 
fensive  nature,  and  it  was  finally  determined  to 


THE   FORT.  6 1 

erect  a  fort  for  the  protection  of  their  families. 
This  was  an  undertaking  which  would  require 
some  little  time,  and  it  was  decided  to  com 
mence  it  at  once.  The  weather  was  clear  and 
cold,  and  the  ground  was  free  from  snow,  so 
that,  by  exerting  themselves,  they  might  at  least 
get  through  with  a  portion  of  the  work  before  the 
next  fall  of  snow ;  and  as  Mr.  Oxenford  and  Mr. 
Brady  had  seen  the  fort  at  Wheeling,  they  were 
appointed  to  superintend  the  construction  of 
the  fortification.  These  deliberations  occupied 
about  two  hours  of  the  morning,  and  as  soon 
as  they  were  ended,  the  work  was  begun. 

The  first  thing  was  to  lay  off  the  ground  on 
which  the  fort  was  to  be  built.  The  object 
being  to  establish  a  place  of  refuge  in  times  of 
danger,  the  location  would  have  to  be  conven 
ient  to  all  parts  of  the  settlement,  and  therefore 
it  was  decided  to  erect  the  work  as  nearly  in 
the  centre  of  the  little  hamlet  as  possible.  This 
would  make  it  convenient  to  the  settlers  south 
of  the  creek,  as  well  as  to  those  north  of  the 
stream.  The  site  chosen  was  about  fifty  yards 


62  PLANTING    THE   WILDERNESS. 

west  of  the  Oxenfords'  cabin,  and  about  seven 
ty  yards  from  the  woods.  It  was  the  highest 
point  of  the  settlement,  and  commanded  a  view 
of  the  entire  neighborhood.  It  was  but  a  few 
yards  from  the  spring  which  supplied  the  set 
tlers  with  water,  and  was  believed  to  be  the 
best  defensive  position  that  could  be  selected. 
The  younger  boys  were  set  to  clearing  off  the 
ground,  and  the  men  and  older  boys  at  once 
went  into  the  woods  to  cut  the  logs  necessary 
for  the  fort.  An  entire  week  was  spent  in  cut 
ting  and  hauling  the  logs,  during  which  time 
there  was  a  slight  flurry  of  snow,  but  not 
enough  to  suspend  the  efforts  of  the  workmen. 
The  next  week  the  ground  was  staked  off,  and 
the  building  was  begun  in  earnest. 

If  my  readers  are  under  the  impression  that 
the  settlers  at  Fish  Creek  were  about  to  at 
tempt  the  construction  of  such  a  "  fort "  as  those 
of  us  who  saw  anything  of  our  late  war,  or 
who  have  seen  the  massive  works  which  pro 
tect  our  sea-coast,  are  familiar  with,  they  are 
very  much  mistaken.  A  frontier  fort  was  merely 


THE    FORT.  63 

a  stockade  ;  and  as  the  savages  had  no  weapons 
but  rifles,  this  was  found  amply  sufficient  for 
the  defence  of  the  pioneers. 

The  fort  at  Fish  Creek  was  built  upon  the 
plan  generally  adopted  along  the  border.  It 
was  a  square  in  shape,  with  a  block-house  at 
each  corner.  A  row  of  five  cabins  was  built 
on  the  west  side,  and  a  similar  row  on  the 
east  side ;  and  as  it  was  probable  that  the 
settlement  might  be  increased,  or  that  settlers 
in  the  neighborhood  might  seek  shelter  in  the 
fort,  it  was  decided  to  erect  a  row  of  cabins 
on  the  north  side,  while  the  south  side  was 
fitted  up  as  a  row  of  stables  for  the  stock.  The 
outer  walls  of  these  buildings  were  constructed 
of  heavy  logs,  in  the  same  manner  that  the 
dwellings  in  the  settlement  were  built,  except 
that  the  chinks,  after  being  filled  up  with  mud, 
were  covered  with  stout  oaken  boards,  in  order 
to  make  them  bullet-proof.  The  walls  were 
twelve  feet  high  on  the  exterior,  and  the  roofs 
sloped  inward.  The  floors  of  the  cabins  were 
made  of  slabs,  and  the  chimneys  of  rocks  and 


64  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

mud.  At  each  corner  of  the  square  formed  by 
the  rows  of  cabins,  a  strong  tower,  or  block 
house,  was  built  of  the  heaviest  logs.  These 
block-houses  were  two  stories  in  height,  and 
projected  about  three  feet  beyond  the  outer 
walls  of  the  cabins.  The  second  story  was 
eighteen  inches  larger  in  length  and  width  than 
the  first  story,  and  that  part  of  the  floor  which 
extended  over  the  lower  wall  was  pierced  for 
firing  through  it,  in  order  to  prevent  the  enemy 
from  getting  close  under  the  sides  of  the  fort, 
and  thus  avoiding  the  fire  of  the  garrison  ,t  The 
sides  of  the  block-houses  and  the  outer  walls 
of  the  cabins  were  pierced  with  loop-holes  at 
the  proper  height,  and  at  a  distance  of  five 
feet  apart  in  the  cabins,  and  two  feet  in  the 
block-houses.  On  the  south  side,  and  just  op 
posite  the  spring,  the  gate  wa,s  placed.  It 
was  made  of  heavy  slabs,  firmly  pinned  to 
gether,  and  was  secured  in  its  place  by  stout 
bars  of  wood.  The  entrance  was  large  enough 
to  allow  the  passage  with  ease  of  three  horses 
abreast,  and  the  gate  was  double,  or  "fold- 


THE    FORT.  65 

ing."  The  stables  were  also  loop-holed,  and 
every  precaution  taken  to  enable  a  heavy  fire  to 
be  directed  against  any  party  that  should  try  to 
break  in  the  gate.  In  the  centre  of  the  en 
closure  thus  made,  a  large  log  building,  which 
was  properly  a  double  cabin,  was  erected. 
This  was  intended  to  serve  as  a  storehouse, 
and  was  also  made  bullet-proof  and  loop-holed, 
so  that  it  might  serve  as  a  kind  of  citadel  to 
the  garrison,  in  case  the  enemy  should  succeed 
in  overcoming  the  outer  defences.  The  cabins 
were  separated  from  each  other  by  partitions 
of  logs,  so  that  each  family  should  have  its 
own  house,  and  maintain  its  separate  estab 
lishment.  After  the  fort  was  completed,  it  was 
decided  to  dig  a  well  in  the  enclosure,  so  that  the 
garrison,  during  a  siege,  might  not  be  deprived 
of  water;  and  this  was  done  in  the  spring, 
after  the  frost  had  gone  out  of  the  ground. 

It  took  seven  weeks  of  hard  labor  to  build 
the  fort,  but  it  was  finished  by  the  second  week 
in  March,  1774.  The  work  was  done  faith 
fully,  for  the  settlers  said  they  meant  to  make 

5 


66  PLANTING    THE   WILDERNESS. 

their  fort  impregnable  to  any  attack  from  the 
savages,  as  the  work  was  worth  doing  well, 
if  it  was  worth  doing  at  all.  The  whole  fort 
covered  an  area  about  one  hundred  and  five 
feet  square,  and  it  was  as  strong  as  the  skill 
of  the  builders  could  make  it.  Their  efforts 
had  been  stimulated  .by  a  warning  which  had 
been  sent  them  from  Fort  Fincastle,  at  Wheel 
ing,  that  matters  were  growing  worse  every 
day,  and  that  they  had  better  be  on  the  watch 
for  a  visit  from  the  Indians  at  any  moment. 
They  were  not  disturbed,  however,  and  the 
fort  was  ready  at  last.  The  next  week  was 
passed  in  providing  it  with  stores  of  various 
kinds.  A  large  wood-pile  was  formed  in  the 
yard,  to  provide  fuel  during  a  siege,  and  each 
member  of  the  little  community  contributed  a 
portion  of  his  provisions  and  ammunition,  so 
that  there  should  be  a  supply  in  the  storehouse 
capable  of  sustaining  the  settlers,  who  should 
take  refuge  in  the  fort,  for  at  least  a  week. 
These  things  were  placed  in  the  storehouse, 
and  it  was  understood  that  no  one  was  to  touch 


THE    FORT.  67 

them  without  the  consent  of  the  person  who 
should  be  placed  in  charge  of  the  fort.  There 
were  more  cabins  than  were  needed  for  the  use 
of  the  settlers  then  present,  and,  in  order  to 
prevent  confusion  when  it  should  be  necessary 
to  occupy  the  fort,  the  cabins  were  assigned  to 
the  various  families  by  drawing  lots  for  them. 

The  last  thing  done  was  the  election  of  a 
commanding  officer  for  the  fort,  and  the  choice 
fell  upon  Mr.  Oxenford,  who  was  thenceforth 
styled  "  Captain."  It  was  decided  that  the  cap 
tain  should  abandon  his  former  dwelling,  and 
take  up  his  quarters  in  the  fort,  as  it  was  ne 
cessary  that  some  one  should  occupy  the  work, 
and  thus  have  it  prepared  for  any  surprise  on 
the  part  of  the  savages ;  and  it  was  not  prac 
ticable  that  the  whole  community  should  dwell 
in  it  all  the  time.  In  consideration  of  this, 
Captain  Oxenford  was  allowed  to  occupy  one 
of  the  block-houses,  and  a  cabin  adjoining  it, 
which  he  was  permitted  to  fit  up  with  the 

0 

greatest  degree  of  comfort  consistent  with  the 
defensive  nature  of  the  building.  The  settlers 


68  PLANTING   THE    WILDERNESS. 

then  pledged  their  honor  to  render  to  their 
commander  the  strictest  obedience,  and  it  was 
agreed  that  all  cases  of  disobedience  in  time 
of  actual  war  with  the  savages  should  be  pun 
ished  by  a  fine  of  twenty  bushels  of  corn,  to  be 
added  to  the  supplies  in  the  storehouse,  and  in 
times  of  peace  with  the  savages  the  fine  was 
to  be  ten  bushels  of  corn.  During  hostilities 
the  captain's  will  was  to  be  the  law  of  the  set 
tlement,  from  which  there  was  to  be  no  appeal ; 
but  in  times  of  peace,  an  appeal  might  be  had 
from  him  to  a  jury  of  four  settlers,  two  to  be 
selected  by  him,  and  two  by  the  person  making 
the  appeal. 

After  his  selection  for  the  command  of  the 
fort,  Captain  Oxenford  prepared  to  remove  his 
family  to  their  new  home.  He  and  John,  with 
the  assistance  of  Dan  Whittaker  and  another 
neighbor,  transferred  the  flooring  and  the  great 
er  part  of  the  work  on  his  cabin  to  the  fort, 
and  in  a  few  days  they  had  made  the  block 
house  and  cabin  as  snug  as  they  were  able. 
Then  the  family  moved  in,  and  took  posses- 


THE    FORT.  69 

sion.  They  had  more  room  by  this  arrange 
ment  than  they  had  formerly,  as  the  block-house 
was  two  stories  high.  They  fastened  pieces 
of  plank  over  the  loop-holes  to  keep  out  the 
cold  and  wind,  arranging  the  coverings  so  that 
they  could  be  removed  at  a  moment's  notice. 
They  continued  to  use  their  old  stable  and 
other  out-houses.  The  cabin  they  had  occupied 
as  a  dwelling  was  simply  closed  up.  Captain 
Oxenford  said  it  had  better  remain  there,  as 
it  might  be  useful  at  some  time. 

By  the  time  all  these  things  were  arranged 
the  spring  had  fairly  opened,  and  the  settlers 
commenced  to  prepare  for  planting  their  corn 
and  potatoes,  and  making  their  gardens.  Two 
or  three  hunters  arrived  at  the  settlement  about 
this  time,  and  were  assigned  one  of  the  cabins 
in  the  fort,  upon  the  condition  that  they  should 
do  their  part  towards  providing  the  fort  with 
a  supply  of  meat.  They  did  nothing  towards 
tilling  the  land,  as  they  .were  constantly  roam 
ing  the  woods ;  but  they  paid  for  their  living 
by  supplying  the  various  families  with  game. 


7O  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

They  were  a  wild,  rough  set,  but  generous 
and  kinct-hearted.  They  were  old  Indian-fight 
ers,  too ;  and,  as  the  country  was  on  the  eve 
of  a  war  with  the  savages,  the  settlers  were 
glad  to  have  these  men  with  them,  as  their 
experience  in  border  warfare  would,  no  doubt, 
be  useful  to  them. 

As  I  have  said,  those  who  had  settled  on 
the  north  shore  of  the  creek  cultivated  their 
land  in  common,  and  divided  the  corn  crop 
and  the  fodder.  This  proved  an  excellent 
plan,  as  it  enabled  them  to  work  a  large 
amount  of  land,  and,  as  the  harvest  showed, 
to  make  a  very  heavy  crop.  Every  one 
worked  hard  this  spring,  for  all  felt  that,  as 
the  Indians  might  interfere  with  them  the  next 
season,  it  was  necessary  to  raise  as  much  corn 
as  possible. 

One  morning  John  was  sent  from  the  "  bot 
tom,"  where  all  hands  were  at  work,  to  get 
something  which  his  father  had  left  in  the  loft 
of  his  old  cabin.  He  hurried  to  the  building, 
ascended  to  the  loft,  and  soon  found  the  article 


THE   FORT.  71 

he  had  been  sent  for.  As  he  was  about  to 
descend,  he  heard  the  sound  of  a  heavy  foot 
fall  in  the  room  below.  He  called  to  know 
what  was  wanted ;  but  as  no  one  answered, 
he  went  to  the  opening  in  the  floor  through 
which  he  had  ascended  to  the  loft,  and  looked 
down.  To  his  surprise  and  alarm,  he  saw  a 
large  black  bear,  sitting  on  its  haunches,  and 
gazing  cunningly  towards  the  loft.  The  ani 
mal  had  heard  the  boy  when  he  called  out, 
and  had  prepared  himself  to  await  his  descent. 
He  was  a  powerful-looking  monster;  and  as 
he  saw  the  boy  at  the  opening  in  the  floor,  he 
uttered  a  low  growl,  and  licked  his  huge  jaws 
with  his  bright-red  tongue,  in  a  manner  that 
made  John's  blood  run  cold. 

John  Oxenford  was  a  brave  boy,  and,  for 
one  of  his  age,  was  possessed  of  a  remarka 
ble  degree  of  coolness  and  self-possession. 
Though  he  was  greatly  alarmed  at  the  immi 
nence  of  his  danger,  his  courage  did  not  for 
sake  him.  He  knew  it  was  vain  to  hope  for 
relief  at  once,  for  by  crying  out  for  aid  he 


72  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

would  anger  the  bear,  who  would  doubtless 
try  to  reach  the  loft.  His  only  hope  was  to 
keep  the  animal  down  until  his  father,  or  some 
one  else,  should  come  to  the  cabin  to  learn  the 
cause  of  his  delay.  And  even  then,  —  and  the 
boy  shuddered  to  think  of  it,  —  whosoever  came 
would  be  likely  to  fall  a  victim  to  the  monster, 
as  no  one  but  himself  was  aware  of  its  pres 
ence.  He  could  not  get  out  of  the  cabin  ex 
cept  by  the  way  he  had  entered  it ;  and  as  the 
bear  made  that  an  impossibility,  there  was  no 
way  by  which  he  could  alarm  the  settlers. 
It  was  a  desperate  situation ;  and,  following 
his  first  impulse,  John  lifted  up  his  heart  to 
God,  and  prayed  for  deliverance  from  his 
danger.  All  the  while  he  kept  his  eyes  on  the 
bear,  watching  with  the  most  intense  anxiety 
the  animal's  every  movement.  Bruin,  how 
ever,  seemed  very  sure  in  his  'own  mind  that 
he  would  make  his  dinner  on  the  boy,  and  sat 
motionless  watching  him,  and  uttering  low 
growls  of  satisfaction. 

The   ladder,   by  means  of  which  John   had 


THE    FORT.  73 

climbed  into  the  loft,  was  made  of  two  oak 
saplings,  with  rounds  of  the  same  kind  of 
wood  fastened  into  auger  holes  in  the  sap 
lings.  It  rested  loosely  against  the  loft,  and, 
as  he  feared  the  animal  might  climb  up  to  him 
by  means  of  it,  John  resolved  to  throw  it  down 
into  the  room  below.  The  bear  watched  him 
narrowly,  as  if  half  suspecting  his  intention ; 
and,  with  his  heart  beating  so  violently  as 
almost  to  suffocate  him,  John  moved  back 
cautiously,  and,  seizing  the  ladder  with  both 
hands,  pushed  it  slowly  and  noiselessly  along 
the  ground  below  him,  until  the  top  barely 
rested  against  the  loft.  One  more  vigorous 
push  would  have  sent  the  ladder  clattering  to 
the  earthen  floor ;  but  with  a  sharp  growl,  the 
bear  at  this  instant  sprang  at  the  rounds,  and 
commenced  to  mount  them.  John  pushed  the 
saplings  with  all  his  might;  but  the  weight 
of  the  bear  was  too  much  for  him,  and  he 
could  not  move  the  ladder  an  inch.  The  mon 
ster  came  nearer,  nearer,  and  the  next  moment 
he  would  be  in  the  loft.  John  could  feel  his 


74  PLANTING    THE   WILDERNESS. 

hot  breath,  as  he  struggled  awkwardly  up  the 
ladder,  and  he  almost  fainted  with  terror  and 
despair.  The  next  moment,  however,  there 
was  a  crash,  and  the  saplings,  which  had 
never  been  designed  to  withstand  such  a  severe 
test,  broke  under  the  bear's  enormous  weight, 
and  Bruin  and  the  remnants  of  the  ladder  fell 
heavily  to  the  ground  below.  The  animal  lay 
flat  on  his  back  for  a  moment,  looking  up  at 
the  loft  with  an  expression  of  bewilderment,  at 
which  John,  in  spite  of  his  alarm,  burst  into 
a  laugh.  Then  springing  to  his  feet,  the  bear 
uttered  a  growl  of  rage,  and  commenced  to 
run  around  the  room,  as  if  seeking  some  other 
means  of  getting  at  the  boy.  John  had  no 
weapon  but  his  hunting-knife,  which,  with  boy 
ish  pride,  he  always  wore  ;  and  he  took  this  out 
now,  resolved  that  if  the  bear  did  reach  the 
loft,  he  would  sell  his  life  as  dearly  as  possible. 
At  this  moment  his  feet  struck  against  some 
thing  hard,  and,  stooping  down,  he  picked  up 
a  stout  club  he  had  put  there  some  time  before 
to  season.  He  felt  sure  he  could  give  Bruin 


THE   FORT.  75 

some  hard  knocks  with  this,  and  he  clutched 
it  resolutely,  and  watched  his  enemy. 

The  bear  had  now  paused  in  his  walk,  and 
was  looking  up  at  the  loft  with  a  puzzled  ex 
pression.  Suddenly  he  walked  over  to  the 
opposite  side  of  the  cabin,  and,  running  swiftly 
towards  the  opening,  sprang  into  the  air  to 
wards  the  left,  and  tried  to  catch  the  floor  with 
his  paws.  He  was  unsuccessful,  however,  and 
fell  back  upon  the  floor  with  a  growl. 

"O,  ho,  my  fine  fellow!"  said  John;  "that's 
your  game  —  is  it?  I  think  I  can  teach  you 
a  trick  worth  two  of  that." 

Grasping  his  cudgel  in  both  hands,  John 
stood  by  the  opening,  waiting  the  bear's  next 
leap.  It  came  soon,  and  this  time  Bruin's 
head  appeared  in  the  opening  on  a  level  with 
the  floor  of  the  loft,  which  he  endeavored  to 
clutch  with  his  claws.  Had  he  been  left  to 
himself,  he  would  doubtless  have  succeeded ; 
but  at  this  instant  John's  cudgel  came  crashing 
"down  on  the  monster's  head,  almost  stunning 
him,  and  sending  him  down  to  the  ground 


76  PLANTING    THE   WILDERNESS. 

again.  John  uttered  a  shout  of  exultation,  to 
which  the  bear  responded  with  a  growl  of 
rage,  and  again  the  latter  sprang  at  the  loft. 
This  time  he  succeeded  in  fastening  his  claws 
in  the  floor,  and  was  trying  to  draw  his  im 
mense  body  up  after  him,  when  John,  dropping 
his  club,  and  drawing  his  hunting-knife,  drove 
the  weapon  with  all  his  force  into  the  animal's 
paw.  The  knife  was  as  keen  as  a  razor,  and 
the  blow  almost  cut  the  paw  from  the  arm ,  and 
Bruin  fell  back  to  the  ground  terribly  wounded, 
and  with  the  blood  flowing  freely  from  the  cut. 
Instead  of  disheartening  him,  however,  his 
wound  made  him  furious,  and  he  sprang  again 
at  the  loft,  and  with  such  force  that  it  seemed 
he  would  enter  it.  Another  blow  from  John's 
club  sent  him  back  to  his  starting-place,  and 
the  boy  answered  his  growls  of  fury  with  mock 
ing  laughter.  Again  and  again  Bruin  essayed 
the  jumping  process  ;  but  each  time  John  struck 
him  over  the  head  with  tremendous  force,  and 
at  length  these  blows  began  to  tell  even  upon* 
so  thick  a  skull  as  that  of  the  bear,  who  finally 


THE    FORT.  77 

lay  still  and  panting  on  the  ground,   evidently 
very  much  worsted  by  his  antagonist. 

John  now  received  an  unexpected  reenforce- 
ment.  The  cabin  door  was  standing  open, 
and  he  saw  enter  through  it  the  dog  he  had 
brought  from  the  Potomac.  Carlo  was  a  mag 
nificent  specimen  of  the  mastiff  breed,  and  had 
always  been  a  great  pet  with  the  whole  family, 
especially  with  John,  who  had  taken  the  care 
of  him  upon  himself.  The  dog  had  evidently 
been  attracted  by  the  growls  of  the  bear,  and 
had  come  to  learn  for  himself  the  cause  of  the 
strange  sounds.  As  he  paused  in  the  door 
way,  the  bear  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  for  a 
moment  the  two  animals  gazed  at  each  other. 
Then,  with  an  angry  bark,  Carlo  sprang  at  the 
bear,  and  Bruin  made  a  dash  at  the  dog.  The 
former  had  calculated  his  movements  well, 
and,  eluding  with  great  dexterity  the  blow 
which  the  latter  aimed  at  him  with  his  paw,  and 
which  would,  no  doubt,  have  stunned  him,  he 
flew  upon  the  bear,  and  seized  him  by  the 
throat,  fastening  his  sharp  fangs  in  the  flesh, 


78  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

and  making  the  monster  roar  with  pain.  The 
bear  now,  finding  himself  at  a  disadvantage, 
clasped  his  antagonist  around  the  body  with 
his  huge  paws,  and  hugged  him  with  such 
force  that  it  seemed  he  would  crush  him,  and 
for  several  minutes  it  appeared  doubtful  who 
would  be  victorious. 

Since  the  arrival  of  the  dog,  John  had 
watched  the  scene  below  him  with  intense  in 
terest.  He  knew  that  Carlo  would  make  a 
good  fight,  and  he  was  anxious  to  escape  from 
his  dangerous  situation.  When  he  saw  Carlo 
seize  Bruin  by  the  throat,  he  knew  that  the  lat 
ter  would  have  as  much  as  he  could  do  to  shake 
him  off,  and  he  prepared  to  make  his  escape 
from  the  cabin,  The  next  instant,  however, 
he  saw  the  monster  clasp  the  dog  in  his  arms, 
and  heard  poor  Carlo,  who  still  held  the  bear 
by  the  throat,  utter  a  faint  howl  of  agony. 
This  decided  the  boy's  course.  Not  even  to 
save  his  own  life  would  he  abandon  his  pet  to 
the  bear.  Throwing  his  club  down,  and  grasp 
ing  his  knife  firmly,  he  sprang  down  through 


THE    FORT.  79 

the  opening  to  the  ground  below.  As  he  did 
so,  the  bear  glared  at  him  with  his  red,  fiend 
ish-looking  eyes,  and  strained  the  dog  closer 
to  him,  as  if  to  make  short  work  of  him.  John 
picked  up  his  club,  and,  swinging  it  in  the  air, 
brought  it  down  vigorously  upon  the  bear's 
skull,  repeating  his  blows  with  such  force  and 
celerity  that  Bruin  roared  with  rage  and  pain. 
He  relaxed  his  hold  upon  the  dog,  and  struck 
at  John  furiously  with  his  wounded  paw ;  but 
the  dog  held  him  fast  by  the  throat,  and  John 
skilfully  avoided  the  animal's  blows.  The 
cabin  now  resounded  with  the  howls  of  the 
bear,  and  the  boy  felt  sure  that  this  unusual 
noise  must  soon  bring  assistance,  and  he  re 
doubled  his  blows,  holding  his  hunting-knife 
between  his  teeth  all  the  time,  so  that  it  might 
be  ready  for  use  at  any  moment. 

The  bear  struggled  violently  to  get  away 
from  the  dog  and  seize  the  boy,  and  suddenly 
gave  the  cudgel  a  wrench  with  his  paw,  tore 
it  from  John's  hand,  and  hurled  it  across  the 
cabin.  This  was  done  with  such  force  that  it 


80  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

threw  the  boy  off  his  balance,  and  before  he 
recovered  it,  the  bear  seized  him  with  his 
wounded  paw,  and  hugged  him  violently. 
He  now  had  both  the  boy  and  the  dog  in  his 
arms,  and  he  strained  them  to  him  with  a  ter 
rible  force.  Carlo  still  kept  his  teeth  fastened 
in  the  bear's  neck,  and  John",  whose  right  hand 
was  free,  managed  to  get  his  knife  in  his  grasp, 
and  with  it  he  struck  the  monster  repeated 
blows  in  the  face  and  neck,  bringing  the  blood 
at  every  blow.  The  struggle  went  on  in  this 
way  for  fully  five  minutes  longer,  and  each 
moment  seemed  to  the  boy  like  an  age.  The 
yells  of  the  bear  resounded  through  the  cabin, 
and  the  blood  was  flowing  from  him  in  half  a 
dozen  places ;  but  his  immense  strength  began 
to  tell  powerfully  in  his  favor.  John  felt  him 
self  growing  fainter  every  moment,  and  it 
seemed  that  his  huge  antagonist  would  win  the 
victory,  after  all.  The  pressure  of  the  animal's 
paw  around  his  body  almost  suffocated  him, 
and  gradually  his  consciousness  began  to  leave 
him.  He  heard,  or  fancied  he  heard,  a  quick, 


THE    FORT.  8 1 

sharp  report,  like  the  crack  of  a  rifle,  and  a 
loud  shout,  and  then  all  grew  dark  to  him,  and 
he  fainted. 

When  he  recovered  his  consciousness  he  was 
lying  on  the  grass  in  front  of  the  cabin,  with  his 
head  resting  in  his  father's  lap.  Captain  Oxen- 
ford  was  chafing  his  hands,  and  trying  to  re 
store  him,  while  several  of  the  neighbors  were 
looking  on  anxiously.  Dan  Whittaker,  with  his 
rifle  in  one  hand  and  a  pail  of  water  in  the 
other,  was  eagerly  watching  him,  and  when 
he  saw  John  open  his  eyes,  he  gave  a  loud 
shout,  and  danced  about  for  joy.  John  was 
stiff  and  sore  from  his  encounter  with  his 
shaggy  foe,  and  was  also  very  much  bruised 
by  the  bear's  embrace.  Fortunately  none  of 
his  bones  were  broken,  however.  The  neigh 
bors  carried  him  into  the  fort,  and  laid  him 
on  his  own  bed ;  and  it  was  several  days  be 
fore  he  was  able  to  be  up  and  at  work  again. 
After  they  carried  him  into  the  fort,  Dan  told 
him  the  result  of  the  fight.  The  loud  roars 
of  the  monster  had  alarmed  the  settlers,  and 
6 


82  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

as  Dan  happened  to  be  the  nearest  to  the  cabin, 
he  was  the  first  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  the 
noises.  Upon  seeing  his  friend  in  such  a  des 
perate"  situation,  he  hurried  to  the  fort,  and 
took  down  John's  rifle.  Without  waiting  to 
answer  Mrs.  Oxenford's  questions  as  to  the 
cause  of  his  excitement,  he  rushed  back  to 
the  cabin,  which  he  reached  about  the  time 
John  fainted.  It  was  but  the  work  of  a  mo 
ment  to  place  the  muzzle  of  his  rifle  right 
against  the  animal's  eye,  and  send  a  bullet 
through  his  brain.  The  bear  fell  back  dead, 
and  released  his  hold  upon  his  victims.  Just 
then  Captain  Oxenford  and  the  rest  arrived, 
and  commenced  their  efforts  to  restore  the 
brave  boy  to  consciousness. 

The  bear  was  an  immense  animal,  and  was 
a  rich  prize.  He  had  evidently  come  into  the 
settlement  to  satisfy  his  hunger,  —  a  very  com 
mon  circumstance  in  those  days,  —  and  both 
John  and  his  dog  were  very  fortunate  in  escap 
ing  with  their  lives.  John's  story  of  his  en 
counter  with  Bruin  was  told  modestly,  but  it 


THE    FORT.  83 

won  him  praise  from  all  in  the  settlement ;  and 
one  of  the  old  hunters  told  him  warmly  that  he 
had  "the  true  grit  in  him,"  and  would  do  honor 
to  his  name  yet.  Big  Dan  Whittaker  was  loud 
in  his  praise,  and  was  never  tired  of  question 
ing  his  friend  about  his  exploit.  He  made  light 
of  his  own  share  in  the  affair ;  but  John  never 
forgot  that  it  was  Dan's  presence  of  mind  that 
released  him  so  soon  from  his  dangerous  posi 
tion. 

As  the  two  boys  had  killed  the  bear,  it  was 
divided  between  their  families ;  but  these  dis 
tributed  the  meat  through  the  whole  settlement. 
The  skin  was  kept  as  a  trophy ;  and  Mrs. 
Oxenford  made  each  of  the  boys  a  cap  out  of 
it.  They  were  very  proud  of  these  caps,  as 
they  had  good  reason  to  be,  and  wore  them 
until  they  literally  fell  to  pieces. 


84  PLANTING    THE   WILDERNESS, 


CHAPTER   VI. 

AN   ADVENTURE    WITH    THE    INDIANS. 

THE  spring  and  summer  passed  away,  and 
the  fall,  which  is  nowhere  so  lovely  as  in  the 
Ohio  Valley,  came  in  its  turn.  The  settlers 
had  heard  rumors  of  hostilities  with  the  In 
dians,  but  as  yet  they  had  seen  none.  Whether 
the  savages  were  in  ignorance  of  the  Fish 
Creek  settlement,  or  whether  they  had  de 
termined  to  spare  it,  no  one  could  say ;  but 
the  perfect  immunity  from  danger  which  they 
had  enjoyed  inclined  the  settlers  to  be  a  little 
sceptical  on  the  subject  of  the  rumors  which 
reached  them.  Their  doubts  were  removed, 
however,  .about  the  fifth  of  September,  by  a 
message  from  Colonel  Shepherd,  at  Fort  Fin- 
castle,  to  Captain  Oxenford.  The  note  from 
the  former  officer  informed  the  latter  that  Lord 
Dunmore  was  marching  towards  the  Ohio,  with 


AN   ADVENTURE    WITH    THE    INDIANS.         85 

an  army,  to  crush  the  power  of  the  savages, 
and  that  orders  had  been  received  to  put  all 
the  frontier  posts  in  a  state  of  defence.  The 
colonel  urged  the  captain  to  lose  no  time  in 
getting  his  neighbors  into  the  fort.  A  num 
ber  of  Indians  had  crossed  the  Ohio  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Grove  Creek,  and  it  was  well 
to  be  prepared  for  the  worst.  The  settlers 
lower  down  the  Ohio  had  already  experienced 
much  trouble  at  the  hands  of  the  savages,  and 
it  was  impossible  to  tell  when  or  where  the 
next  blow  would  fall.  The  colonel  said  that 
the  governor  of  the  colony,  Lord  Dunmore, 
would  soon  be  on  the  frontier  with  a  strong 
force,  as  he  was  already  assembling  his  army 
on  the  eastern  slope  of  the  Alleghenies,  but 
that  until  he  did  arrive  the  people  must  take 
their  defence  into  their  own  hands. 

Colonel  Shepherd's  letter  caused  very  great 
anxiety  in  the  settlement,  and  the  statement 
which  he  made  was  confirmed  by  the  report 
of  one  of  the  hunters,  who  announced  that  he 
had  on  that  day  seen  several  Indians  in  the 


86  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

vicinity  of  the  mouth  of  Fish  Creek.  It  was 
decided  that  the  various  families  comprising 
the  little  community  should  at  once  move  into 
the  cabins  assigned  to  them  in  the  fort,  and 
that  the  grain  and  other  crops,  as  soon  as 
harvested,  should  be  stored  in  the  unoccupied 
cabins,  so  that  they  might  not  be  exposed  to 
loss.  These  things  were  soon  done ;  the  set 
tlers  moved  into  the  fort,  bringing  with  them 
all  their  household  goods  and  movable  prop 
erty  ;  the  animals  were  quartered  in  the  stables 
provided  for  them  on  the  south  side  of  the  fort ; 
and  in  a  short  time  everything  was  in  w  apple- 
pie  order."  There  was  an  abundance  of  food 
in  the  storehouse,  but  as  each  family  had  its 
own  supplies,  there  was  no  necessity  for  touch 
ing  the  general  stock  at  present. 

Captain  Oxenford  was  very  strict  in  enfor 
cing  the  discipline  which  he  established  over  the 
fort.  The  settlers  were  required  to  go  to  their 
work  beyond  the  walls  armed,  and  were  in 
structed  to  return  to  the  fort  upon  the  slightest 
alarm.  The  gate  was  to  be  kept  closed  at  all 


AN   ADVENTURE   WITH   THE   INDIANS.         87 

times,  and  was  to  be  placed  in  charge  of  a 
sentinel  both  night  and  day.  During  the  day 
every  one,  except  the  younger  children,  was 
to  pass  in  and  out  at  will,  but  at  night  no  one 
was  to  leave  the  fort  without  permission  from 
the  captain.  Every  person  was  charged  to  ob 
serve  the  utmost  vigilance  and  prudence.  The 
hunters  were  to  act  as  scouts ;  and,  for  this 
purpose,  they  alone  had  leave  to  go  and  come 
at  will  at  all  hours. 

By  the  time  the  harvest  came,  everything  in 
and  about  the  fort  was  fully  arranged,  and  it 
presented  a  very  thriving  and  busy  appearance 
with  its  ten  families.  The  .harvest  was  gath 
ered  in  as  usual,  and  the  crops  belonging  to 
those  who  lived  on  the  south  side  of  the  creek 
were  stored  in  the  fort  also.  This  being  done, 
the  settlers  began  to  lay  in  their  usual  supply 
of  game. 

Thus  the  early  autumn  wore  away,  and  still 
no  signs  of  the  Indians  were  seen  about  the 
settlement.  The  cattle  had,  up  to  this  time, 
been  turned  out  to  graze  occasionally,  and  thus 
far  no  harm  had  befallen  them. 


88  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

Towards  the  last  of  October,  news  came  that 
Lord  Dunmore,  who  had  really  done  more  to 
bring  on  the  war,  which  is  still  called  by  his 
name  in  the  west,  than  any  other  living  be 
ing,  had  made  peace  with  the  savages ;  but  it 
was  a  peace  that  few  had  any  faith  in.  The 
people  at  Fish  Creek  determined  that  they 
would  remain  in  the  fort  during  the  winter, 
which  was  now  close  at  hand,  and  return  to 
their  old  dwellings  in  the  spring. 

The  cows  were  driven  up  regularly  every 
afternoon  about  four  o'clock,  and  this  duty  was 
generally  performed  by  the  older  boys.  On 
the  day  that  the  news  of  the  peace  came,  it 
was  John  Oxenford's  turn  to  bring  in  the  cattle. 
This  was  never  a  very  onerous  task,  as  they 
were  generally  but  a  short  distance  from  the 
fort.  As  he  started""  off,  John  looked  for  Dan 
Whittaker  to  accompany  him,  but  Dan  was 
busy,  and  could  not  leave  his  work. 

"  Let  me  go  with  you,  brother,"  said  little 
Thomas  Oxenford.  "  I  can  drive  the  cows  as 
well  as  Dan  Whittaker." 


AN   ADVENTURE    WITH    THE    INDIANS.         89 

"Come  along,  then,"  said  John.  "You'll 
soon  have  to  bear  your  share  of  this  work, 
and  you  may  as  well  begin  now." 

They  passed  out  of  the  fort,  and  took  their 
way  to  the  woods.  About  half  a  mile  from 
the  settlement,  and  over  the  hill  which  lay 
back  of  it,  was  a  large  meadow,  which  was 
the  favorite  grazing-ground  of  the  cattle,  and 
to  that  place  the  boys  bent  their  steps.  The 
season  was  that  delightful  Indian  summer 
time,  when  the  Ohio  Valle}^  puts  on  its  richest 
lines  of  beauty,  and  when  the  fascination  of  its 
scenery  is  greater  than  at  any  other  period 
of  the  year.  The  lads,  young  as  they  were, 
were  keenly  alive  to  the  beauty  of  the  scene, 
and  they  moved  along  leisurely,  gazing  upon 
it  in  silence.  They  passed  over  the  brow  of 
the  hill  and  down  the  northern  slope,  and 
reached  the  edge  of  the  meadow.  Just  then 
Thomas  burst  into  a  shout  of.  delight. 

"Look,  John,"  he  cried,  pointing  to  a  large 
tree,  but  a  few  feet  from  them  —  "look  at  the 
chestnuts  !  Let  us  stop  and  gather  some." 


pO  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

John  felt  that  it  would  be  wrong  to  stop  for. 
the  nuts,  as  he  had  been  ordered  to  bring  in 
the  cows  at  once,  but  the  temptation  presented 
by  the  tree,  which  was  fairly  loaded  with  the 
delightful  fruit,  was  too  great  for  him ;  so  you 
see,  my  dear  reader,  pioneer  boys  were  quite 
as  apt  to  neglect  business  for  pleasure  as  those 
of  the  present  day.  John  looked  up  at  the 
sun,  which  was  still  high  in  the  heavens,  and, 
after  a  moment's  hesitation,  said, — 

"  Come,  Tom,  we  must  be  quick  about  it, 
for  we  haven't  got  long  to  be  here.  You 
know  we  must  have  the  cows  at  the  fort  by 
sunset." 

"  O,  it  will  not  take  us  long  to  get  a  few 
nuts,"  said  Tom.  "We  can  fill  our  caps,  and 
take  them  along  with  us." 

The  boys  then  started  for  the  tree.  They 
found  a  plenty  of  sticks  on  the  ground,  and 
with  these  they  brought  down  a  large  quantity 
of  the  nuts,  which  were  perfectly  ripe,  and  as 
sweet  as  they  could  desire.  But,  instead  of 
filling  their  caps,  and  proceeding  in  their  search 


AN   ADVENTURE   WITH    THE    INDIANS.         pi 

after  the  cows,  they  sat  down  on  a  log,  and 
commenced  to  eat  the  nuts.  "They  were  so 
much  interested  in  this  performance  that  they 
were  unconscious  that  the  afternoon  was  pass 
ing  away  rapidly.  At  last  Tom  sprang  up, 
and  exclaimed,  quickly, — 

"  We'll  catch  it  now,  John.  Yonder  come 
father  and  one  of  the  neighbors ;  and  if  father 
finds  us  here,  instead  of  looking  after  the  cows, 
he'll  make  us  smoke  for  it." 

John  looked  in  the  direction  to  which  his 
brother  pointed,  and  saw  two  men  approaching 
them.  The  new-comers  were  dressed  like  the 
settlers  at  the  fort,  and  one  of  them  carried 
a  bridle  in  his  hand.  The  boys  commenced 
looking  about  very  busily,  and  called  the  cows 
with  all  their  might,  hoping,  in  this  way  to 
disarm  their  father  of  his  suspicions.  In  a 
few  minutes  the  strangers  were  near  enough 
for  them  to  ascertain  their  true  character,  and 
the  boys,  to  their  astonishment  and  alarm, 
found  that  they  were  in  the  presence  of  two 
large  Indians.  They  were  terribly  frightened, 
and  started  to  run  away. 


p2  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

"Stop,  stop!"  cried  one  of  the  savages, 
sharply.  "  White  boy  run,  Injun  shoot.  Injun 
kill." 

"Stop,  Tom,"  said  John ;  "they  will  certainly 
shoot  us  if  we  try  to  run  away.  We  must  go 
back,  and  see  what  they  want  with  us." 

The  boys  then  faced  about,  and  walked 
back  hand  in  hand  to  where  the  Indians  were 
standing  with  their  guns  levelled  at  them.  As 
they  came  up,  one  of  the  men  seized  John  by 
the  shoulder,  and  brandished  his  tomahawk 
furiously  over  his  head;  but  the  boy  looked 
him  in  the  face  without  flinching,  and  the 
savage  lowered  his  arm  with  a  grunt  of  satis 
faction. 

"  Ugh  ! "  he  exclaimed,  in  his  broken  Eng 
lish,  "white  boy  no  Traid.  Be  big  chief  some 
day." 

"Why  should  I  be  afraid  of  you?"  asked 
John,  calmly.  "I  have  never  harmed  you." 

"Injun  hate  white  man,"  said  the  warrior, 
sharply.  "Injun  no  hurt  boy.  Take  him 
home ;  make  him  big  chief." 


ADVENTURE    WITH   THE    INDIANS.         93 

The  Indian  then  told  the  boys  that  he  and 
his  companion  were  looking  for  horses,  and 
that  they  must  go  with  them.  They  would 
not  hurt  them  as  long  as  they  submitted  to 
their  fate,  but  if  they  offered  the  least  resist 
ance,  or  attempted  to  escape,  they  would  kill 
and  scalp  them.  The  savages,  then  started 
off,  and,  taking  a  circuitous  route  over  the 
Fish  Creek  hills,  continued  their  search  after 
horses. 

Thomas  was  very  much  frightened  by  his 
capture,  and  kept  silence ;  but  John,  whose 
fertile  brain  had  already  marked  out  his  line 
of  conduct  for  him,  became  quite  talkative. 

"I'm  glad  you've  taken  us,"  he  said  to  the 
Indian  who  coujd  speak  English,  as  they 
walked  along.  "I  don't  want  to  live  in  a  fort. 
I  want  to  be  a  warrior  like  you,  and  take 
lots  of  scalps." 

"  Ugh ! "  grunted  the  savage,  pleased  by  the 
compliment,  and  unsuspicious  of  the  boy's 
motive. 

"Yes,"   said  John,    "I'm   tired   of   living   in 


94  PLANTING    THE   WILDERNESS. 

the  fort.  My  father  makes  me  work  hard, 
and  beats  me.  He  never  lets  me  play  like 
other  boys,  but  makes  me  work  like  a  dog. 
I  want  to  go  with  you,  and  be  a  great  hunter, 
and  a  warrior,  and  live  in  the  woods,  and  kill 
deer,  and  wild  turkeys,  and  buffaloes." 

Thomas  had  listened  to  his  brother  in  the 
most  profound  astonishment.  He  knew  John 
was  not  speaking  the  truth,  but  he  failed  to 
comprehend  his  motive  for  the  deception  ;  so, 
when  the  Indian  was  telling  his  companion 
what  John  had  said,  the  little  fellow  whispered 
to  his  brother,  reproachfully,  — 

"O,  John!  you  don't  mean  that  —  do  you?" 

"Of  course  I  don't,"  whispered  John,  in 
reply.  "You  must  let  me  c|o  all  the  talking, 
Tom,  and  mustn't  contradict  me.  I've  got  a 
plan  on  foot,  and  I  want  to  carry  it  out." 

The  Indian  now  turned  to  John,  and  told 
him  he  was  very  glad  to  hear  him  talk  so, 
and  that  he  and  his  companion  would  carry 
him  and  his  brother  to  their  people,  and  make 
Indians  out  of  them,  and  that  by  the  time  they 


AN   ADVENTURE    WITH    THE    INDIANS.         95 

were  grown  up  they  would  have  no  white  blood 
in  them.  During  the  afternoon  he  became 
very  intimate  with  the  lad,  and  gave  him  his 
tomahawk  to  carry.  Thomas,  however,  said 
nothing,  but  kept  close  to  his  brother's  side  all 
the  way. 

About  sunset  the  Indians  halted  at  a  spring 
in  a  hollow,  about  three  miles  from  the  fort. 
They  built  a  fire,  and  cooked  their  supper, 
which  they  shared  with  the  boys.  John  made 
himself  very  useful  in  building  the  fire,  and 
getting  water  for  his  captors,  and  received 
many  grunts  of  satisfaction  and  approval  from 
them.  One  of  them  asked  him  if  he  knew 
where  they  could  find  any  horses ;  but  as  he 
thought  it  best  to  tell  them  the  truth  this  time, 
he  answered  that  he  did  not  think  they  would 
be  successful  in  their  search,  that  the  settlers 
kept  their  horses  up  all  the  time,  and  never 
allowed  them  to  run  out,  for  fear  the  Indians 
might  get  them. 

After  the  night  had  fairly  set  in,  the  savages 
covered  up  the  fire,  and  tied  the  boys'  hands. 


96  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

They  then  made  them  lie  down  together,  and 
placed  a  leather  strap  or  thong  over  them,  and 
stretched  themselves  out  upon  the  ends  of  the 
strap  —  one  on  each  side  of  the  boys.  They 
lay  awake  for  a  long  time,  laughing  and  talk 
ing.  John,  who  was  a  lively  fellow,  amused 
his  captors  with  a  number  of  funny  stories, 
which  made  them  laugh  heartily.  These 
stories  he  told  to  the  Indian  who  could  speak 
English,  and  that  one,  in  his  turn,  related  them 
to  his  companion  in  their  own  tongue. 

Poor  little  Thomas,  utterly  unable  to  under 
stand  his  brother's  motives  for  the  part  he  was 
playing,  listened  to  him  in  silent  indignation. 
He  was  once  or  twice  on  the  point  of  openly 
reproaching  him  for  turning  against  his  friends ; 
but,  as  John  had  told  him  to  remain  quiet,  he 
concluded  that  it  was  best  for  him  to  do  so. 
Still,  he  could  not  understand  why  John  should 
be  so  well  pleased  at  their  capture,  or  why  he 
should  want  to  be  an  Indian ;  and  the  more  he 
thought  of  it,  the  harder  he  found  the  attempt 
to  understand  his  brother's  conduct.  John  soon 


AN   ADVENTURE   WITH   THE   INDIANS.         97 

increased  his  perplexity ;  for  when  the  Indian, 
who  had  been  the  spokesman,  was  engaged  in 
telling  his  companion  a  story  John  had  just 
told  him,  the  boy  whispered  softly  to  his  little 
brother,  — 

"I  say,  Tom,  don't  you  go  to  sleep  to-night. 
Stay  awake  if  you  ever  wish  to  see  home 
again ;  and,  above  all  things,  hold  your 
tongue." 

John  Oxenford  was  merely  carrying  out  a 
plan  which  he  had  conceived  immediately  after 
his  capture.  He  had  heard  from  the  hunters 
at  the  fort  many  a  story  of  border  warfare, 
and  as  soon  as  he  was  made  a  prisoner  he 
resolved  to  escape.  This  was  his  reason  for 
telling  his  brother  to  say  nothing,  and  let  him 
do  all  the  talking ;  and  he  had  spent  all  the 
afternoon  in  trying  to  make  friends  of  the 
savages,  and  lull  their  suspicions  to  rest.  He 
knew  his  brother  would  not  understand  his 
motives  for  acting  as  he  did,  but  he  could  not 
tell  him  without  revealing  everything  to  the 
Indian  who  could  speak  English,  and  in  this 
7 


98  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

way  ruining  their  chance  for  escape.  After 
the  savages  tied  him  and  made  him  lie  down 
for  the  night,  his  courage  almost  failed  him. 
The  Indians,  as  I  have  said,  had  placejl  their 
leather  strap  over  the  boys,  and  were  lying 
upon  the  ends  of  it  themselves,  so  that  any 
attempt  on  the  part  of  the  prisoners  to  get  up 
on  their  feet  would  move  the  strap  and  wake 
their  captors.  The  situation  seemed  hopeless 
enough,  but  John  determined  to  wait  patiently 
and  see  if  something  more  favorable  did  not 
happen ;  and,  as  he  always  did  in  times  of 
danger  and  trouble,  he  prayed  for  "deliverance 
from  on  high."  After  the  Indians  ceased  talk 
ing,  he  lay  silently  thinking  over  the  plan  he 
had  resolved  upon.  He  believed  that  the  In 
dians  had  no  fear  of  his  trying  to  leave  them, 
as  they  had  faith  in  the  story  he  had  told 
them ;  but  how  he  should  get  out  of  their 
power  he  could  not  tell.  Something  must  be 
done  that  night.  He  knew  the  spot  where 
they  were  resting,  and  could  eastly  find  his 
way  back  to  the  fort ;  but  the  next  day  the 


AN   ADVENTURE    WITH    THE    INDIANS.        99 

Indians  would  strike  across  the  country  towards 
their  own  settlements,  and  even  should  they 
succeed  in  escaping  during  the  journey,  there 
was  a  strong  probability  of  their  being  retaken 
and  killed,  or  of  losing  their  way  and  dying 
of  starvation,  or  of  wandering  into  an  Indian 
camp.  The  necessity,  therefore,  for  doing 
something  that  night,  was  imperative. 

The  boy's  mind  was  busy  with  these  thoughts, 
but  he  knew  that  it  was  useless  to  make  even 
the  slightest  attempt  as  long  as  the  Indians 
were  awake.  The  suspense  in  which  he  was 
placed,  was  painful,  and,  in  spite  of  the  chilli 
ness  of  the  night,  the  thick  sweat  stood'  heavy 
on  his  forehead.  At  last  the  heavy  breathing 
of  the  savages  convinced  him  that  they  were 
asleep ;  but  as  he  could  not  move  without 
awaking  them,  his  situation  was  not  bettered 
by  their  unconsciousness. 

The  night  was  very  chilly,  and  in  about  an 
hour  after  the  savages  fell  asleep,  one  of  them, 
becoming  cold,  lifted  John  in  his  arms,  and 
rolled  him  on  the  outside,  settled  himself  in 


100  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

the  boy's  place,  and  was  soon  breathing 
heavily  again.  This  was  just  what  the  lad 
wanted,  but  what  he  had  not  dared  to  hope 
for.  The  Indian  had  put  him  where  he  could 
move  without  disturbing  the  others,  and  had 
not  only  removed  the  strap  from  him,  but  had 
rolled  off  from  it  himself.  Profiting  by  this,  the 
boy  slowly  and  cautiously  rolled  away  from  his 
companions,  and  commenced  trying  to  undo 
the  thongs  with  which  his  hands  were  tied. 
Fortunately  for  him,  the  Indians  had  not  fas 
tened  him  very  securely.  He  worked  slowly 
and  softly  —  so  slowly  indeed,  that  it  seemed 
he  would  never  free  himself.  Every  motion 
seemed  to  his  excited  imagination  more  violent 
than  was  prudent,  and  he  was  tormented  with 
the  fear  that  the  Indians  would  suddenly 
awake,  and  discover  his  attempt  to  escape.  In 
such  a  case  he  felt  sure  they  would  kill  him. 
The  time  wore  away  very  slowly,  but  at  length 
he  succeeded  in  removing  his  fetters,  and, 
rising  gently  to  his  feet,  he  looked  around  to 
assure  himself  that  all  was  well. 


AN    ADVENTURE    WITft  'TllE  'INDIANS,  :    IOI 


The  huge  forms  of  the  Indian's  M/e^e  tfrdSched 
out  at  full  length,  and"  their1  "heav^,  regular 
breathing  convinced  him  that  they  were  still 
sound  asleep.  Another  glance  showed  him  the 
great  round  blue  eyes  of  his  little  brother 
Thomas,  watching  his  movements  with  the 
most  intense  eagerness.  He  placed  his  finger 
warningly  upon  his  lips  to  caution  the  little  fel 
low  not  to  move  or  make  any  sound  that  might 
disturb  the  savages,  and  then,  stepping  cau 
tiously  to  his  brother's  side,  he  raised  the  strap 
softly,  and  signed  to  the  boy  to  get  up  on  his 
feet.  The  astonished  Thomas  obeyed  him,  and 
John  led  him  noiselessly  a  few  feet  away  from 
the  sleepers,  and  commenced  to  untie  his 
hands.  How  their  hearts  throbbed  as  they 
stood  there  in  the  dark  woods,  with  danger  and 
death  so  near  them  !  The  very  sighing  of  the 
night  wind,  the  rustling  of  the  leaves,  and  the 
murmuring  of  the  waters  of  the  little  stream 
by  which  they  had  encamped,  made  them  start 
and  tremble  with  fear.  The  slightest  sound 
might  arouse  their  captors,  and  then,  poor  boys, 


IO?;  FLA^TIJNG  ;THE    WILDERNESS, 


rio>Ti!e  'ami ,  %  mother's  fk^e  would  never  gladden 
'their  eyes  again.  y 

At  last  Tom's  hands  were  freed,  and  the  lit 
tle  fellow,  intent  only  upon  getting  off  safe, 
whispered  to  his  brother, —  . 

"Come  now,  brother  John,  let  'us  run  home 
as  fast  as  we  can." 

John  knew  this  would  never  do.  Tom  would 
be  sure  to  arouse  the  savages  in  attempting  to 
run  away,  and,  as  the  little  fellow  had  already 
turned  to  put  his  proposal  into  execution,  he 
seized  him  firmly  by  the  shoulder,  and  whis 
pered  to  him, — 

"  Don't  run  away  yet,  Tom.  If  you  do, 
you'll  wake  the  Indians,  and  they'll  be  sure 
to  kill  us.  You  mustn't  stir  yet,  for  we  must 
kill  these  Indians  before  we  go." 

"We  are  not  big  enough  to  kill  them,"  said 
Tom,  trembling  at  the  thought. 

"We've  got  it  to  do,  or  be  killed  our 
selves,"  whispered  John.  "You  must  do  your 
share." 

Tom  looked   at   the  great,  stalwart  warriors 


AN   ADVENTURE   WITH   THE    INDIANS.       1 03 

that  lay  sleeping  at  his  feet,  and  for  the  life  of 
him  he  could  not  see  how  two  such  boys  as 
they  were  could  hope  to  prevail  against  them. 
His  brother  whispered  to  him  that  they  had  no 
time  to  lose,  and,  yielding  to  him,  Tom  ex 
pressed  his  readiness  to  do  what  he  could. 

The  plan  upon  which  John  determined  would 
have  done  credit  to  an  old  Indian  hunter.  It 
exhibited  an  unusual  degree  of  fertility  of  re 
source,  as  well  as  the  most  determined  cour 
age.  Stealing  noiselessly  up  to  the  Indians, 
he  took  one  of  their  rifles,  which  was  loaded 
and  primed,  and,  cocking  it,  placed  it  on  a  log, 
with  the  muzzle  only  an  inch  or  two  from  the 
head  of  one  of  the  sleepers.  He  then  stationed 
Tom  at  the  breech  of  the  weapon,  and  made 
him  put  his  finger  on  the  trigger,  and  told  him 
to  pull  the  trigger  and  shoot  the  savage,  as  soon 
as  he  should  strike  the  other.  Then,  stepping 
back,  he  possessed  himself  of  the  Indian's  tom 
ahawk,  having  found  that  it  would  be  impossi 
ble  to  remove  the  rifle  without  disturbing  its 
owner.  He  grasped  the  tomahawk  firmly,  and 


104  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

then,  assuring  himself  by  a  glance  that  his 
youngest  brother  was  ready,  he  stepped  softly 
to  the  sleepers,  and  placed  himself  astride  of 
one  of  them.  They  were  still  unconscious, 
the  fatigue  of  their  long  journey  during  the 
previous  day  having  thrown  them  into  a  pro 
found  slumber.  The  boy  raised  the  tomahawk 
with  both  hands,  and,  concentrating  all  his 
energies  in  the  blow,  struck  the  savage  with 
it.  The  blow  fell  upon  the  back  of  the  Indian's 
neck,  and  a  little  to  the  side,  so  as  not  to  be 
fatal.  Half  stunned,  the  savage  attempted  to 
spring  up  and  defend  himself,  but  John  struck 
him  on  the  head.  Even  this  blow,  though  it 
cut  through  the  skull  with  a  horrible  crash, 
did  not  kill  the  man ;  but  the  boy,  rendered 
desperate  by  the  gravity  of  his  situation,  struck 
him  so  fast,  so  often,  and  with  such  fatal  effect, 
that,  as  the  lad  afterwards  expressed  it  himself, 
the  Indian  "lay  still,  and  began  to  quiver." 
In  another  moment  the  huge  savage  lay  motion 
less  at  his  feet,  and,  having  satisfied  himself 
that  there  was  nothing  more  to  apprehend  from 


AN   ADVENTURE   WITH    THE    INDIANS.       105 

this  one,  John  turned  to  see  what  disposition 
his  brother  had  made  of  the  other. 

Tom  had  also  done  his  part  well.  As  soon 
as  he  saw  his  elder  brother  strike  the  Indian, 
he  pulled  the  trigger  and  discharged  the  rifle. 
The  ball  struck  the  sleeping  savage  in  the  face, 
and  tore  away  a  considerable  part  of  his  lower 
jaw,  and  the  Indian,  a  few  moments  after  re 
ceiving  the  shot,  began  to  flounce  about  and 
yell  in  the  most  terrible  manner.  He  was  so 
completely  startled  by  the  suddenness  of  the 
attack,  that  he  did  not  for  a  moment  attribute 
it  to  his  captives,  and  his  wound  was  so  terri 
ble  as  to  utterly  deprive  him,  for  a  time,  of  the 
power  of  resistance.  As  soon  as  he  had  fired, 
Tom  dropped  the  rifle,  and  hurried  over  to 
where  his  brother  was  standing. 

All  this  had  taken  scarcely  as  much  time  as 
I  have  consumed  in  telling  it,  and  the  boys  at 
once  set  oft'  for  the  fort  at  full  speed.  In  spite 
of  their  efforts,  however,  they  travelled  slow, 
for  it  was  very  difficult  to  find  their  way  in  the 
darkness.  They  feared  that  they  had  not 


106  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

killed  the  other  Indian,  and  that  he  would  pur 
sue  them  and  murder  them ;  and  the  breaking 
of  every  twig  under  their  feet,  the  rustle  of 
every  leaf,  made  them  tremble  with  alarm. 

At  last  they  came  in  sight  of  the  clearing 
around  the  settlement,  and  John  could  see  by 
the  brightening  of  the  clouds  in  the  east  that 
the  day  would  soon  break.  They  could  see 
the  dark  outline  of  the  fort,  about  half  a  mile 
beyond  them ;  but  everything  was  as  still  as 
death,  and  with  beating  hearts  they  set  off  at 
a  run.  They  reached  the  gate  almost  out  of 
breath,  and  knocked  loudly  upon  it.  The 
sentinel  on  duty  was  none  other  than  Dan 
Whittaker,  and  the  boy  was  about  half 
asleep. 

"Who's  that  out  there?"  he  called,  drow 
sily. 

"It's  me.  Open  the  gate,"  cried  John, 
breathlessly. 

"And  who's  me?"  asked  Dan,  growing 
wider  awake. 

"John   Oxenford,"   was   the   reply.      "Open 


AN   ADVENTURE    WITH    THE    INDIANS.       IOJ 

the  gate  quick,  Dan,  if  it's  you.  The  Indians 
may  be  after  us  at  any  moment." 

Dan  gave  a  great  whoop,  and  the  bars  which 
closed  the  entrance  came  clattering  to  the 
ground,  and  the  heavy  gate  swung  open.  Dan 
caught  his  friend  in  his  arms,  and  gave  him 
a  great  hug.  He  could  not  leave  his  post,  but 
told  the  boys  they  would  find  their  parents 
in  the  block-house,  to  which  they  at  once  pro 
ceeded. 

They  found  all  the  neighbors  gathered  in 
their  father's  cabin,  endeavoring  to  console  and 
cheer  their  parents.  Their  absence  had  occa 
sioned  the  greatest  alarm  and  anxiety  in  the 
fort,  as  none  of  the  parties  that  had  gone  out 
to  look  for  them  had  been  able  to  learn  any 
thing  of  them.  They  found  their  mother  with 
her  head  lying  in  her  husband's  lap,  sobbing 
bitterly,  while  Captain  Oxenford  bent  over  her, 
utterly  incapable  of  offering  her  any  consola 
tion,  so  greatly  was  he  in  need  of  it  himself. 

"  Poor  boys,  poor  boys  !  "  sobbed  the  mother. 
"  They  are  killed  or  taken  prisoners  by  the 
Indians,  and  I  shall  never  see  them  again." 


108  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

John's  heart  was  in  his  throat  as  he  heard 
his  mother's  grief;  but  he  burst  into  the  room, 
half  laughing,  half  crying,  followed  by  Tom, 
who  was  blubbering  outright. 

"No,  mother,"  cried  the  boys;  "we  are  not 
dead,  and  here  we  are." 

You  may  be  sure,  dear  reader,  the  lads  had 
a  warm  welcome  from  all  present,  and  their 
parents'  grief  was  changed  into  the  deepest 
joy.  After  the  excitement  produced  by  their 
arrival  had  subsided,  John  told  the  story  of 
their  capture  and  escape,  not  even  concealing 
their  misconduct  in  stopping  to  gather  the  chest 
nuts.  When  he  described  the  manner  in  which 
they  had  killed  and  wounded  the  Indians,  one 
of  the  old  hunters,  who  was  present,  gave  a 
long  whistle. 

"  Whew,  lad  !  "  he  exclaimed,  incredulously  ; 
"  that's  a  very  fine  tale  you've  told,  but  it's  a 
pretty  hard  one.  -You  and  your  dog  thar  may 
be  pretty  good  at  a  bar  fight ;  but  I  don't  know 
any  Injuns  you  could  have  licked  as  easy  as 
that." 


AN   ADVENTURE    WITH    THE    INDIANS.       1 09 

"I've  told  the  truth,"  said  John,  flushing. 
"Whether  you  believe  it  or  not,  everything 
happened  as  I  have  said." 

"  Don't  git  riled,  my  boy,"-  said  the  hunter, 
kindly.  "  You  hain't  got  a  better  friend  in  the 
fort  than  me,  and  I'd  be  powerful  glad  if  I 
could  believe  your  yarn ;  but  I'm  too  old  an 
Injun-fighter  for  that." 

"  Well,  then,  Bill  Davis,"  said  John,  sharply, 
"  I'll  prove  that  I  speak  the  truth.  It  will  be 
broad  day  in  a  few  minutes,  and  as  soon  as 
the  sun  rises  I'll  go  with  you,  and  show  you 
the  place." 

"  Done,"  said  the  hunter ;  "  and  if  I'm  wrong, 
my  boy,  I'll  ax  your  pardon  with  all  my 
heart." 

Breakfast  was  made  ready  early,  and  as  soon 
as  it  was  despatched,  a  party  of  six  or  seven, 
consisting  of  Captain  Oxenford,  Bill  Davis, 
Dan  Whittaker,  and  several  others,  left  the 
fort,  under  John's  guidance,  to  ascertain  the 
truth  of  the  boy's  story.  Captain,  Oxenford 
had  never  known  his  son  to  tell  a  lie,  and  he 


110  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

was  very  anxious  that  John's  veracity  should 
be  sustained  by  the  result  of  the  investigation. 
He  cared  very  little  for  the  credit  which  would 
be  gained  by  his  boys  for  their  exploit.  He 
was  chiefly  anxious  to  show  the  settlers  that 
they  had  not  lied.  John  guided  the  party  by 
the  shortest  route,  and  they  soon  stood  upon 
the  spot  which  had  been  the  scene  of  the  last 
night's  tragedy. 

The  Indian  he  had  tomahawked  lay  on  the 
ground,  stiff  and  cold  in  death,  but  the  other 
one,  who  had  been  wounded  by  the  discharge 
of  the  rifle,  had  crawled  away  from  the  camp, 
and  had  taken  his  gun  and  shot-pouch  with 
him.  The  evidence  afforded  by  the  dead  In 
dian  was  indisputable,  and  the  boy  pointed  to 
him  with  an  air  of  triumph,  and,  turning  to 
the  hunter,  exclaimed,  proudly,— 

"Well,  Bill  Davis,  what  do  you  say  now?" 

"  I    say,"    said    the    hunter,   warmly,    seizing 

John's   hand,   and  wringing  it  in    his  vice-like 

grasp,   "  I  say  that,  boy  as  you  are,  you  are 

the  best  man  in  the  fort,  and  I  ax  your  pardon, 


AN   ADVENTURE   WITH   THE   INDIANS.       Ill 

lad,  for  doubting  your  story  just  now  ;  but  you 
see  it  was  hard  for  an  old  hunter,  like  me,  to 
believe  that  two  shavers,  like  you  and  Tom, 
could  lick  two  of  the  best  warriors  in  the  whole 
Shawnee  tribe." 

"Then  you  know  this  Indian,  Davis?"  said 
Captain  Oxenford. 

"Know  him,  cap'n?"  replied  the  hunter. 
"You  jist  bet  I  do.  He's  shot  at  me  often, 
and  we  hunted  each  other  for  a  whole  year 
once,  but  somehow  both  of  us  came  out  safe, 
and  we  gave  up  the  chase.  He  was  a  'big 
Injun,'  as  the  red-skins  call  their  braves,  and 
I  reckon  his  pardner  was  one  of  the  same 
stripe." 

As  he  spoke,  the  old  man  drew  his  hunt 
ing-knife  from  its  sheath,  and  tried  its  edge  on 
his  finger;  then,  before  his  companions  really 
knew  what  he  was  about,  he  bent  over  the 
dead  savage,  and  cut  his  scalp  off.  Raising 
the  gory  trophy,  he  handed  it  to  John. 

"  Here's  your  prize,  lad,"  he  said,  holding  out 
the  scalp.  "What!  don't  want  it?"  he  added, 


112  PLANTING    THE   WILDERNESS. 

laughing,  as  he  saw  the  boy  shrink  back  in 
horror.  "You've  earned  it  fairly.  Well,  it  does 
you  credit,  anyhow,  and  I'll  keep  it  and  dry 
it  for  you.  If  these  troubles  last  as  long  as  I 
think  they  will,  you'll  be  proud  of  this  here 
har  yet." 

And,  so  saying,  the  hunter  commenced  to 
prepare  the  scalp  for  carrying,  by  taking  it  to 
the  brook,  and  washing  the  blood  from  it. 

"Now,"  said  Captain  Oxenford,  "let  us  see 
what  has  become  of  the  other  Indian." 

They  followed  the  trail  made  by  the  wounded 
savage,  and  found  him  lodged  in  the  branches 
of  a  large  tree,  which  had  fallen  to  the  ground, 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  camp.  Not 
withstanding  the  severity  of  his  wound,  which 
was  gradually  producing  lockjaw,  the  Indian 
was  resolved  to  sell  his  life  as  dearly  as  pos 
sible.  Bracing  himself  in  the  tree,  with  the 
strength  of  despair,  the  savage  rested  his  gun 
on  one  of  the  limbs,  and  taking  aim  at  the  fore 
most  man  of  the  party,  pulled  the  trigger ;  but, 
fortunately,  his  gun  missed  fire.  The  white 


AN  ADVENTURE   WITH   THE   INDIANS.       113 

men  heard  the  snap  of  the  lock,  and  made  a 
simultaneous  movement  backward. 

"Hang  me,"  muttered  the  old  hunter,  "if  I 
want  to  be  shot  by  a  dead  Injun.  I'll  fix  his 
flint  for  him." 

Raising  his  rifle,  the  old  man  aimed  it  de 
liberately  at  the  savage,  and  fired,  and  the 
next  moment  the  fellow  fell  to  the  ground  a 
corpse. 

"  Thar,"  said  Davis,  bending  over  him,  and 
scalping  him,  "  I  thought  I  knowed  him.  The 
Shawnees  will  miss  you,  my  fine  fellows,  and, 
if  I  ain't  much  mistaken,  they'll  do  thar  best 
to  get  some  of  our  har  to  pay  for  yours." 

The  rifles  and  ammunition  of  the  Indians 
were  secured,  and  the  party  went  back  to  the 
fort.  John's  story  was  now  fully  sustained, 
and  old  Bill  Davis,  who  had  been  the  first  to 
doubt  the  boys,  was  now  loudest  in  their  praise, 
in  which  the  whole  community  joined  right 
heartily.  Tom  came  in  for  his  share  too,  and 
it  was  decided  by  the  men  that  the  two  rifles, 
which  had  been  taken  from  the  Indians,  should 
8 


114  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

be  given  to  the  boys.  John  was  old  enough 
to  use  his,  and  Tom's  was  put  away  until  he 
should  be  large  enough  to  handle  it.  The 
weapons  were  of  the  best  quality,  and  were 
very  valuable,  and  in  the  long  war  which 
followed  these  occurrences,  they  did  good 
service. 


THE   TOMAHAWK   RIGHT.  11$ 


CHAPTER   VII. 


"JoiiN,"  said  Captain  Oxenford,  one  morn 
ing,  "  do  you  think  you  can  make  a  sweep  for 
the  hominy  block?" 

"  I  can  try  it,  sir,"  was  the  reply.  "  But 
where  shall  I  put  it?" 

"It  is  for  the  benefit  of  the  whole  settle 
ment,"  said  the  captain,  "  and  you'll  have  to 
put  it  where  all  can  get  at  it  easily.  I  reckon 
you'd  better  put  it  at  the  south  end  of  the 
storehouse." 

John  set  to  work  at  once.  He  cut  down  a 
small  sugar  tree,  and  trimmed  off  a  pole  from 
it  about  thirty  feet  long.  This  he  dragged  into 
the  fort  with  the  aid  of  one  of  the  horses,  and 

«r 

fastened  the  but-end  under  the  lower  layer  of 
logs  in  the  storehouse.  Two  forks  were  then 
driven  into  the  ground  at  about  one  third  the 


Il6  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

length  of  the  pole,  in  order  to  support  it  firmly, 
and  elevate  the  small  end  about  fifteen  feet  from 
the  ground.  To  the  small  end  of  this  pole  was 
attached,  by  a  large  mortise,  a  piece  of  sap 
ling  about  five  or  six  inches  in  diameter,  and 
eight  or  ten  feet  long,  the  lower  end  of  which 
was  shaped  to  answer  for  a  pestle.  A  pin  of 
wood  was  then  put  through  the  pestle  at  the 
proper  height,  so  that  two  persons  could  work 
the  sweep  at  once.  Under  the  pestle  the  hom 
iny  block  was  placed,  and  this  consisted  of 
a  large  block  of  wood  about  three  feet  long, 
with  an  excavation  burned  at  one  end,  wide  at 
the  top,  and  narrow  at  the  bottom,  so  that  the 
action  of  the  pestle  on  the  bottom  threw  the 
corn  up  to  the  sides  towards  the  top  of  it,  from 
whence  it  continually  fell  down  into  the  centre. 
The  sapling  being  very  elastic,  the  work  of 
pounding  the  corn  into  hominy  or  meal 
was  very  much  lightened  by  means  of  this 
sweep. 

John  did  his  work  well,  and  in   the   course 
of  a  few  hours  the  sweep  was  in  operation.     It 


THE   TOMAHAWK   RIGHT. 

was  kept  going  almost  constantly,  for  it  was 
the  sole  dependence  of  ten  families.  The  corn 
was  beaten  as  fine  as  a  succession  of  heavy 
blows  could  break  it,  and  the  mass  was  then 
bolted  through  a  sifter  made  of  a  piece  of  fine 
deer-skin  stretched  over  a  hoop,  the  holes  be 
ing  perforated  with  a  small  hot  wire.  That 
which  passed  through  the  holes  was  meal,  and 
was  used  for  making  bread,  while  the  coarser 
pieces  were  boiled  as  hominy. 

The  winter  wore  away  monotonously,  for  there 
was  nothing  to  afford  amusement  to  the  dwell 
ers  in  the  fort  at  such  a  time ;  but  towards  the 
close  of  it,  an  incident  occurred  which  gave 
a  little  variety  to  the  humdrum  character  of 
the  life  they  led. 

It  was  late  in  January,  1775,  and  towards  the 
close  of  a  remarkably  cold  day,  that  a  stranger, 
mounted  on  a  very  rough-looking  horse, 
reached  the  fort  from  the  direction  of  Wheel 
ing.  He  rode  up  to  the  enclosure,  and  asked 
permission  to  spend  the  night  there,  which  was 
cordially  given  by  Captain  Oxenford,  and  the 


Il8  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

man  was  admitted  within  the  walls,  and  his 
horse  put  away  in  the  stable.  He  made  him 
self  very  agreeable  during  the  evening,  and 
gave  the  latest  news  from  the  colonies  east  of 
the  mountains,  which  information  the  settlers 
considered  ample  remuneration  for  all  the  extra 
trouble  his  visit  caused  them.  The  next  morn 
ing,  however,  the  stranger  was  not  quite  so 
agreeable.  He  informed  Captain  Oxenford  that 
he  was  the  owner  of  the  land  on  which  the 
little  settlement  was  located,  and  that  he  had 
come  out  for  the  purpose  of  arranging  his 
claims  with  the  settlers.  He  said  he  was  dis 
posed  to  sell  the  land  at  a  very  low  figure,  and 
that,  as  the  settlers  had  been  to  considerable 
trouble  to  improve  the  land,  he  supposed  they 
would  rather  pay  for  it  than  move  away. 

Captain  Oxenford  listened  to  him  in  silence, 
his  indignation  and  surprise  at  the  fellow's 
impudence  rendering  him  speechless. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  claiming  to  be  the 
owner  of  this  land?"  he  asked,  at  length. 
"  We  found  it  unoccupied,  and  we  claim  it  by 
right  of  having  settled  it." 


THE   TOMAHAWK   RIGHT. 

"That's  very  true,  cap',"  said  the  man; 
"but  you  see  I  spotted  this  here  tract  before 
you  did." 

"Then  you  should  have  settled  on  it,"  said 
the  captain,  indignantly.  "As  you  failed  to 
do  so,  you  have  no  claim  upon  it." 

"Wait  a  bit  and  I'll  show  you,"  said  the 
man,  insolently.  "Three  years  ago  I  came 
here,  and  saw  this  valley.  I  made  up  my  mind 
that  I  had  better  lay  claim  to  it,  as  some  one 
would  be  likely  to  settle  here.  I  took  my  tom 
ahawk  and  deadened  a  few  trees  about  the 
spring  out  yonder.  Then  I  cut  my  initials, 
'P.  P.,'  which  stand  for  Paul  Payson ;  that's 
my  name,  cap' ;  and,  according  to  the  rules 
here  on  the  border,  that  gives  me  a  '  tomahawk 
right 'to  this  land."* 

*  Doddridge  says,  in  his  "Notes  on  Western  Virginia,"  — 
"  I  remember  having  seen  a  number  of  those  '  tomahawk 
rights'  when  a  boy.  For  a  long  time  many  of  them  bore 
the  names  of  those  who  made  them.  I  have  no  knowledge 
of  the  efficacy  of  the  tomahawk  improvement,  or  whether 
it  conferred  any  right  whatever,  unless  followed  by  an  actual 
settlement.  These  rights,  however,  were  often  bought  and 
sold.  Those  who  wished  to  make  settlements  .  .  .  often 


I2O  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

"  Suppose  we  refuse  to  recognize  your  right 
—  what  then?"  asked  the  captain,  controlling 
his  anger. 

"Well,  then,"  said  the  man,  impudently, 
"I'll  go  up  to  Wheeling,  and  get  a  posse  of 
men,  and  put  you  off." 

"  You'll  find  no  one  there  base  enough  to  aid 
you,"  said  the  captain  ;  "  and  besides,  you  have 
no  law  to  justify  you." 

"There's  no  law  on  the  subject,  I  know," 
said  the  man ;  "  but  it's  a  custom  here  on  the 
border,  and  I  mean  to  carry  it  out.  I've  come 
here  to  settle  the  thing  peaceably;  but  if  you 
mean  to  show  fight,  why,  I  can  show  it, 
too." 

"Mr.  Payson,"  said  Captain  Oxenford,  stern 
ly,  "your  claim  is  infamous.  By  your  own 

bought  up  the  tomahawk  improvements,  rather  than  enter 
into  quarrels  with  those  who  had  made  them.  Other  im 
provers  of  the  land,  .  .  .  who  happened  to  be  stout,  veteran 
fellows,  took  a  very  different  course  from  that  of  purchasing 
the  *  tomahawk  rights.'  When  annoyed  by  the  claimants 
under  those  rights,  they  deliberately  cut  a  few  good  hick 
ories,  and  gave  them  what  was  called  in  those  days  '  a  laced 
jacket; '  that  is,  a  sound  whipping." 


THE    TOMAHAWK    RIGHT.  T2I 

confession,  you  had  a  whole  year  in  which  to 
settle  this  land  before  we  came.  You  threw 
away  your  opportunity,  and  we  have  had  the 
toil  and  trouble  necessary  to  the  redemption  of 
this  valley  from  the  wilderness.  We  refuse  to 
recognize  your  bogus  claim,  and  base  our  rights 
upon  our  actual  settlement.  You  can  bring  as 
many  men  here  as  you  please ;  but  if  they  in 
terfere  with  us,  we  shall  drive  them  away.  We 
will  defend  our  rights  with  our  lives." 

"Then  you  are  a  parcel  of  thieves,"  began 
Pay  son,  angrily ;  but  the  captain  cut  him 
short. 

"  Look  you,  my  man,"  said  he,  his  eyes  flash 
ing,  "you  had  better  hold  your  tongue.  A 
repetition  of  your  words  will  bring  down  upon 
you  the  punishment  you  merit." 

By  this  time  nearly  all  the  settlers  had  col 
lected  on  the  spot  where  the  conversation  was 
being  held,  \\hich  was  just  outside  of  the  gate 
of  the  fort,  and  they  demanded  eagerly  to  know 
the  cause  of  the  quarrel,  for  such  they  per 
ceived  it  to  be. 


122  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

"  This  man,"  said  Captain  Oxenford,  "  has 
come  here  to  demand  that  we  shall  buy  from 
him  the  land  we  have  earned  by  our  labor  and 
privations.  He  says  he  has  a  tomahawk  right 
to  it,  as  he  saw  it  three  years  ago,  and  cut  his 
initials  on  the  trees  around  the  spring  yon 
der.  I  have  told  him  that  we  will  not  recog 
nize  such  an  infamous  claim,  and  he  threatens 
to  bring  a  posse  of  men  here  to  expel  us." 

"Sculp  him!"  cried  old  Bill  Davis,  the 
hunter,  whose  ideas  of  retribution  were  very 
much  like  those  of  the  Indians  themselves. 
"Blarst  him,  I'd  like  to  have  his  har ;  I'd  put  it 
alongside  o'  that  Injun's  sculp  John  killed 
t'other  day." 

It  was  evident  that  the  settlers  were  very 
much  inclined  to  take  the  old  man's  advice. 
Big  Dan  Whittaker  said  nothing,  but,  giving 
John  Oxenford  a  wink,  which  the  lad  under 
stood,  stepped  over  to  a  grove  of  young  sap 
lings,  and  cut  a  stout  switch  with  his  knife. 
He  was  back  in  a  minute,  and  set  to  work  to 
trim  the  switch  in  silence.  The  owner  of  the 


THE   TOMAHAWK   RIGHT.  123 

"tomahawk  right"  began  to  see  that  he  was 
in  considerable  danger ;  but  putting  on  a  bold 
appearance,  he  declared  his  intention  to  main 
tain  his  rights  to  the  last. 

"Duck  him  in  the  creek,"  cried  several  of 
the  men.  "  He's  a  blackguard ;  he's  no  better 
than  a  common  thief." 

There  was  a  movement  towards  the  man, 
who  turned  pale,  and  looked  about  for  a 
chance  to  escape ;  but  Captain  Oxenford 
stopped  the  excited  settlers  by  stepping  before 
the  man. 

"Don't  touch  him,  men,"  he  said.  "Let  us 
show  him  fair  play." 

Dan  Whittaker  had  now  finished  trimming 
his  switch,  and,  shutting  his  knife  and  put 
ting  it  away,  he  walked  up  to  the  trembling 
sharper. 

"Let  me  settle  his  claim,  captain,"  he  said. 
"We  are  a  good  match." 

"Well,  then,  if  you  will  have  it  so,  Dan," 
said  the  captain,  who  saw  that  this  was  the 
only  way  of  saving  the  man  from  the  wrath 


124  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

of  the  settlers,  and  who  was  really  not  sorry 
to  see  the  matter  so  adjusted,  "I  have  nothing 
more  to  say.  After  all,  the  fellow  deserves 
some  kind  of  punishment  for  his  insolence." 

Stepping  aside,  he  left  Dan  confronting  the 
man,  who  was  by  this  time  very  much  fright 
ened. 

"You've  come  here  to  settle  your  'tomahawk 
right,'  I  hear,"  said  Dan,  mockingly.  "Well, 
old  fellow,  the  way  we  settle  those  things  is 
just  so." 

Seizing  the  man  by  the  collar,  he  rained 
blows  fast  and  heavy  on  the  fellow's  back  and 
shoulders.  The  man  struggled  hard  to  get 
away  from  him,  but  Dan  held  him  fast,  and 
flogged  him  soundly,  amid  the  cheers  and  yells 
of  the  delighted  spectators.  At  last,  when 
fairly  out  of  breath,  he  released  him. 

"  Now,"  said  Captain  Oxenford,  to  the  crest 
fallen  sharper,  "  the  sooner  you  get  away  from 
here,  the  better  for  you." 

The  man  walked  silently  into  the  fort,  and, 
taking-  his  horse  from  the  stable,  rode  out  of 


THE   TOMAHAWK   EIGHT.  125 

the  enclosure.  He  paused  as  he  reached  the 
spot  where  the  settlers  were  still  standing,  and 
pointing  his  finger  at  Dan  Whittaker,  he  said, 
or  rather  lisped,  in  a  tone  of  the  bitterest 
hatred,  — 

"You've  had  your  turn  to-day,  youngster. 
It'll  be  my  time  next,  and  you  mark  me  if  I 
don't  have  your  life  by  this  time  next  year." 

"  You  can  have  a  trial  at  it  now,  if  you'll 
get  down  off  that  horse,"  said  Dan,  coolly. 

The  man  tried  to  speak,  but  his  voice  was 
too  unsteady  to  trust  himself;  so,  darting  upon 
the  boy  a  look  of  hatred,  he  put  spurs  to  his 
horse,  and  rode  off  swiftly.  Dan  burst  into  a 
laugh,  and  turned  carelessly  away.  As  he 
did  so,  he  felt  some  one  touch  him  on  his 
arm,  and,  turning,  he  saw  his  friend,  the  old 
hunter. 

"You  may  laugh,  Dan,"  said  the  old  man, 
gravely,  "  but  take  my  word  for  it,  that  fellow 
means  what  he  says.  He'll  be'  sure  to  try  to 
do  you  some  mischief,  and  I'd  be  on  my  guard 
if  I  were  you." 


126  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

"  I'm  not  afraid  of  him,"  replied  Dan.  "  He's 
a  vile  coward,  or  he  never  would  have  let  me 
flog  him  just  now." 

"  Of  course  he's  a  coward,"  said  the  hunter, 
"and  that's  the  reason  why  I  warn  you  agin 
him.  If  he  was  a  brave  man,  he'd  seek  no 
mean  advantage  over  you ;  but  he'll  not  hesi 
tate  to  waylay  you  whenever  he  can ;  so  take 
my  advice,  lad,  and  be  on  the  watch  for  him." 

The  hunter's  warning  was  based  upon  a 
keen  knowledge  of  human  nature,  as  seen  in 
that  part  of  the  world,  and  Dan  concluded  to 
be  influenced  by  it.  His  caution,  however, 
was  useless,  for  Payson  was  never  seen  or 
heard  of  in  the  neighborhood  of  Fish  Creek 
again.  His  "tomahawk  right"  had  been  com 
pletely  settled,  and  the  settlers  were  troubled 
with  it  no  more.  It  was  afterwards  ascertained 
that  he  did  not  return  to  Wheeling,  as  he  had 
threatened.  Such  a  course  would  have  been 
useless,  for  the  settlers  at  that  post  would  have 
laughed  at  his  claim,  and  he  would  have  stood 
a  good  chance  of  a  worse  punishment  than 


THE    TOMAHAWK    RIGHT.  127 

he  met  at  the  hands  of  Dan  Whittaker.  As 
his  disappearance  left  no  trace  of  him  behind, 
the  settlers  came  to  believe,  with  the  old  hunter, 
that  the  Indians  had  "gobbled  him  up."  It 
was  some  time  before  they  ceased  to  discuss 
the  fellow's  visit  to  them,  and  to  the  last  their 
indignation  remained  as  violent  as  it  was  on 
the  day  of  the  occurrence. 

In  the  woods  just  back  of  the  settlement 
were  a  number  of  fine  sugar-maple  trees.  It 
was  the  next  thing  to  impossible  to  obtain 
sugar  on  the  western  side  of  the  mountains, 
and  many  months  had  elapsed  since  our  set 
tlers  had  seen  any.  It  was  proposed  by  some 
one  to  tap  the  maple  trees  fos  sap,  and  make 
their  own  sugar.  This  would  place  within 
their  reach  an  abundant  supply  of  a  most  de 
lightful  quality  of  sugar.  They  would  be  de 
pendent  no  longer  upon  the  east  in  this  respect, 
and  the  plan  was  so  promising  that  it  was  decid 
ed  to  try  it.  The  work  was  to  be  done  in  com 
mon,  and  the  sugar  divided  among  the  fami 
lies  according  to  their  number.  Preparations 


128  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

were  immediately  commenced,  and  as  the 
winter  gave  place  to  the  spring,  the  process 
of  collecting  the  sap  from  the  trees  was  be 
gun.  Each  tree  was  bored  with  a  medium- 
sized  auger,  and  into  the  hole  thus  made  a 
piece  of  wood  hollowed  like  a  spout  was 
driven.  The  sap  collected  in  these  spouts, 
and  ran  slowly  into  buckets  and  pails,  which 
were  set  to  catch  it.  A  number  of  buckets 
and  barrels  were  made  for  the  occasion,  for, 
among  the  other  accomplishments  which  their 
necessities  had  taught  them,  some  of  the  settlers 
had  become  excellent  coopers.  As  fast  as 
the  buckets  were  filled,  they  were  emptied 
into  the  barrels,  and  in  this  way  a  consider 
able  quantity  of  the  sap  was  collected.  In 
ten  days  enough  had  been  drawn  to  enable 
the  settlers  to  commence  boiling  the  sirup  into 
sugar.  Four  large  fires  were  kindled  in  the 
woods,  and  over  each  one  was  placed  a  large 
iron  kettle,  holding  about  ten  or  twelve  gal 
lons.  The  women  attended  to  the  boiling, 
and  the  men  kept  the  fires  supplied  with  fuel. 


THE    TOMAHAWK    RIGHT.  1 29 

This  was  continued  for  about  a  month,  at  the 
end  of  which  time  it  was  found  that  quite  a 
large  quantity  of  sugar  and  molasses  had 
been  made,  and  it  was  believed  that,  with  care 
ful  economy,  the  supply  could  be  made  to  last 
until  the  next  spring. 

My  readers  must  not  suppose  that  the  little 
frontier  settlement  to  which  I  have  devoted 
these  pages  was  by  any  means  an  earthly 
Paradise.  It  was  like  all  others  of  its  kind,  a 
collection  of  plain,  rough  cabins,  inhabited  by 
a  rugged,  hard-fisted  set  of  people.  The  pri 
vations  and  hardships  endured  by  the  settlers 
were  such  as  we  of  to-day  can  scarcely  real 
ize,  not  the  least  of  which  was  the  severe 
toil  attendant  upon  clearing  up  the  land  and 
getting  in  the  crops.  Almost  everything  had 
to  be  created,  and  nothing  but  the  direst  ne 
cessity  could  have  called  into  such  active  use 
the  ingenuity  that  was  manifested  by  nearly 
every  person  to  supply  the  deficiencies.  Yet, 
in  spite  of  their  hard  life,  the  settlers  were 
contented  and  happy.  They  established  homes 

9 


I3O  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

for  themselves  and  their  families ;  they  owed 
no  man  anything,  and  they  knew  that,  when 
they  came  to  die,  their  children  would  have 
an  ample  inheritance.  They  felt  that  the  In 
dians  would  be  steadily  driven  farther  west, 
and  the  country  more  thickly  settled,  and  that 
their  children  would  reap  the  reward  of  their 
labors,  if  they  did  not  live  to  do  so  them 
selves. 


BORDER   WAR.  131 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

BORDER   WAR. 

WITH  the  summer  of  1775  came  the  news 
of  the  troubles  with  "England,  which  were  con 
vulsing  the  whole  country.  The  efforts  which 
the  mother  country  was  making  to  reduce  the 
rebellious  colonies  to  submission  were  tolera 
bly  well  understood  on  the  Ohio,  in  spite  of 
the  great  difficulties  of  obtaining  authentic  in 
formation,  and  the  measures  of  the  patriots  for 
resistance  found  a  sympathizer  in  almost  every 
settler  west  of  the  mountains.  So  rare,  in 
deed,  was  a  Tory  found  in  that  region,  that 
the  name  was  scarcely  known. 

The  people  of  Western  Virginia  had  good 
cause  to  be  indignant  at  the  conduct  of  the 
British  authorities,  for  they  had  good  proof 
that  the  mother  country  was  prepared  to  bring 
upon  them  the  worst  of  evils.  For  some  time 


132  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

they  had  had  cause  to  suspect  that  the  infa 
mous  governor  of  Virginia,  Lord  Dunmore, 
had  been  in  negotiation  with  the  Indians  for  the 
destruction,  by  the  latter,  of  the  frontier  settle 
ments,  and  in  the  fall  of  1775  they  had  positive 
proof  of  this  in  the  discovery  of  the  plot  known 
as  "  Connelly's  conspiracy  ;  "  and  the  next  year, 
the  war  having  assumed  a  general  character 
east  of  the  mountains,  the  struggle  began  in 
earnest  west  of  them,  between  the  whites  and 
the  savages.  Great  Britain  had  taken  the  lat 
ter  regularly  into  her  employ,  and,  to  her 
eternal  shame,  had  offered  a  reward  for  every 
scalp  which  the  savages  brought  to  her  mili 
tary  posts  along  the  great  lakes.  Detroit  was 
her  principal  stronghold  in  this  region,  and 
that  city  was  the  great  market  for  the  scalps 
of  the  patriots.  The  war  was  bitter  and  mer 
ciless. 

As  soon  as  the  war  began,  the  settlers  on 
Fish  Creek,  who  had  left  the  fort  in  the  spring, 
after  the  close  of  "  Dunmore's  war,"  and  moved 
back  to  their  cabins,  returned  to  their  quar- 


BORDER   WAR.  133 

ters  in  the  fort.  They  hoped  the  struggle 
would  soon  pass  by,  for  they  had  no  concep 
tion  of  its  magnitude ;  but  as  the  time  wore 
on,  the  savages  became  more  troublesome,  and 
they  began  to  see  that  they  would  be  com 
pelled  to  remain  in  the  fort,  at  least  until  peace 
was  proclaimed,  and  when  that  would  be,  no 
one  could  tell.  They  heard,  towards  the  close 
of  the  summer  of  1776,  that  the  colonies  had 
declared  themselves  absolved  from  their  alle 
giance  to  Great  Britain ;  but,  as  they  had  never 
troubled  themselves  much  about  that  country, 
they  were  somewhat  at  a  loss  to  understand 
how  this  separation  benefited  them.  Still,  as 
they  regarded  England  as  the  author  of  their 
troubles  with  the  Indians,  they  were,  on  the 
whole,  rather  glad  that  the  country  was  to 
have  no  further  connection  with  her. 

As  late  as  the  fall  of  1776  the  settlement 
was  exempt  from  the  depredations  of  the  sav 
ages,  but  with  the  latter  part  of  the  harvest  it 
began  to  take  its  share  in  the  struggle  through 
which  the  whole  country  was  passing. 


134  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

The  harvest  was  almost  over.  The  corn 
had  been  gathered  in,  and  was  safely  stowed 
away  in  the  fort,  and  a  large  part  of  the  fodder 
had  been  secured  in  the  same  manner.  Two 
days  more,  and  everything  would  be  safe  under 
shelter.  It  was  near  sunset,  and  the  settlers, 
with  the  exception  of  two  men  who  had  been 
left  to  mind  the  gate,  were  busy  at  work  in 
the  cornfield.  In  accordance  with  the  orders 
of  Captain  Cxenford,  each  man  had  his  rifle 
with  him,  and,  as  the  hunters  had  reported 
signs  of  Indians  in  the  vicinity  of  the  river  on 
the  previous  day,  each  man  had  his  weapon 
slung  across  his  back  by  means  of  a  cord  of 
deer-skin,  so  that  it  could  be  ready  for  use  at 
any  moment.  The  field  on  the  south  shore 
of  the  creek  had  been  harvested,  and  all  the 
men  were  collected  in  the  bottom,  which  lay 
within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  the  fort.  The 
upper  end  of  this  field  was  bounded  by  a  strip 
of  woods,  and  it  was  near  this  thicket  that  the 
men  were  working  when  the  incident  which 
follows  occurred. 


BORDER  WAR.  135 

John  Oxenford  —  who  was  now  over  seven 
teen  years  old — and  Dan  Whittaker  were  near 
est  the  belt  of  wood,  and  were  busily  engaged 
in  carrying  the  bundles  of  fodder  to  the  large 
stack  from  which  it  was  to  be  carried  to  the 
fort  the  next  day.  Suddenly  Dan's  quick  ear 
caught  the  sound  of  something  moving  among 
the  trees. 

"I  say,  John,"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone, 
"there's  something  moving  in  the  woods.  I 
shouldn't  be  surprised  if  it  is  an  Indian,  or  a 
dozen  of  them,  maybe." 

"Let's  give  the  alarm,  then,"  said  John, 
quickly. 

"  But  we  don't  know  that  the  noise  is  caused 
by  the  approach  of  the  red-skins,"  said  Dan. 
"  It  may  be  a  fox,  or  a  bear,  or  even  a  squir 
rel  ;  and  if  we  give  the  alarm,  we  shall  be 
laughed  at  for  being  frightened." 

"I'll  take  the  risk,  anyhow,"  said  John. 
"Father,"  he  cried,  running  to  the  captain, 
who  was  but  a  short  distance  from  them, 
"there  are  Indians  in  the  woods." 


136  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

He  had  scarcely  spoken  when  the  reports 
of  ten  or  twelve  rifles  rang  out  from  the  trees. 
Fortunately,  no  one  was  killed.  One  of  the 
settlers  received  a  slight  wound  in  the  arm, 
but  no  damage  of  a  serious  nature  was  done 
by  the  volley. 

"  Run  for  the  fort,  men  !  Run  for  the  fort !  " 
shouted  Captain  Oxenford.  "  It  is  our  only 
hope  of  safety." 

The  next  moment  the  whites  had  unslung 
their  guns  from  their  shoulders,  and  started 
for  the  fort.  Orders  had  been  given  that  day 
to  allow  none  of  the  \vomen  and  children  to 
pass  beyond  the  walls,  and  the  men  who  had 
been  working  in  the  field  were  the  only  per 
sons  exposed  to  the  danger.  The  savages, 
some  eight  or  ten  in  number,  had  counted  on 
surprising  the  whites ;  and,  as  soon  as  they 
fired,  they  sprang  from  the  woods  with  a  loud 
yell,  and  dashed  towards  them.  The  fugitives 
were  about  fifty  yards  in  advance,  but  the  race 
was  a  close  one,  for  the  red-skins  were  better 
runners  than  their  adversaries.  Seeing  that 


BORDER   WAR.  137 

the  Indians  were  gaming  upon  them,  Captain 
Oxenford  called  to  his  men  to  halt,  discharge 
their  rifles  at  the  enemy,  and  then  resume  their 
efforts  to  reach  the  fort ;  and,  suiting  the  action 
to  the  word,  he  paused,  raised  his  rifle,  fired, 
and  ran  towards  the  gate.  A  yell  of  pain 
from  the  Indians  told  him  that  he  had  struck 
one  of  the  dusky  warriors.  Several  other  shots 
were  fired,  one  of  which  wounded  another  In 
dian  ;  but  the  majority  of  the  settlers  made  no 
effort  to  execute  the  captain's  orders,  being 
anxious  only  to  get  into  the  fort  alive.  The 
firing  had  the  effect  of  bringing  the  Indians 
to  a  halt ;  and  taking  advantage  of  this,  the 
settlers  got  into  the  enclosure  safely.  The 
sentinels  at  the  gate  had  been  startled  by  the 
reports  of  the  Indians'  rifles,  and  had  at  once 
prepared  to  admit  their  friends.  The  whites 
once  inside  the  walls,  the  gates  were  closed 
and  securely  barred.  The  wounded  man  had 
not  been  very  much  injured,  and  he  was  turned 
over  to  the  care  of  the  women,  while  the  others 
proceeded  to  man  the  side  of  the  fort  nearest 
the  savages. 


138  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

i  John  Oxenford  and  Dan  Whittaker  were 
eager  for  a  shot  at  the  enemy,  and  as  soon 
as  they  got  into  the  fort,  they  hastened  to  the 
block-house  overlooking  the  ground  occupied 
by  the  savages.  The  Indians  were  still  stand 
ing  in  the  field,  huddled  around  the  two  who 
had  been  wounded.  As  the  boys  reached  the 
block-house,  they  saw  them  lift  the  form  of  one 
of  the  wounded  men  from  the  ground,  prepar 
atory  to  carrying  him  off.  As  they  did  so, 
they  shook  their  clinched  hands  at  the  fort, 
and  uttered  a  series  of  deafening  yells. 

"They  are  going  off,  Dan,"  said  John,  as 
he  watched  them  through  a  loop-hole.  "  If 
we  want  to  get  a  crack  at  them,  we  must  be 
quick  about  it." 

"It's  a  long  distance,  John,"  said  Dan,  "and 
I  hardly  think  we  can  reach  them." 

"We^can  try  it,"  said  John.  "So  here 
goes." 

The  boys  raised  their  guns,  and,  passing 
them  through  the  loop-holes,  aimed  carefully 
at  the  dusky  group.  The  Indians  were  some 


BORDER   WAR.  139 

distance  off,  and  it  was  a  very  doubtful  venture 
the  lads  were  attempting.  They  aimed  slowly 
and  carefully,  and  fired  simultaneously.  One 
of  the  Indians  sprang  into  the  air,  and  fell  to 
the  ground  a  corpse ;  but,  as  the  boys  had  fired 
together,  it  was  impossible  to  tell  which  had 
killed  him.  The  boys  gave  a  cheer  as  they 
saw  him  fall,  and  the  savages,  with  a  yell, 
dropped  their  wounded  comrade,  and  scam 
pered  off  to  the  woods,  from  which  they  fired 
several  shots  at  the  fort,  all  of  which  fell  short, 
however.  Several  of  the  settlers,  among  whom 
was  Captain  Oxenford,  now  came  into  the 
block-house. 

"Who  fired  those  shots?"  asked  the  cap 
tain. 

"We  did,  sir,"  replied  both  the  boys. 

"Didn't  you  remember  my  orders  about 
wasting  your  ammunition?"  asked  the  cap 
tain,  sternly. 

"We  didn't  waste  it,  sir,"  said  Dan,  eagerly. 
"  We  killed  an  Indian.  See,"  he  added,  point 
ing  through  the  loop-hole,  "you  can  see  him 


140  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

lying  yonder  by  that  big  stump.  That  other 
fellow  is  only  wounded." 

"  Don't  throw  away  a  shot,  boys,"  said  the 
captain,  patting  Dan  approvingly  on  the  back. 
"We  had  better  not  fire  on  them  again  until 
they  make  another  attack.  Do  you  think  they 
will  attempt  an  attack  on  the  fort  to-night?" 
he  asked,  turning  to  Bill  Davis,  the  old  hunter, 
who  was  their  great  authority  upon  Indian 
matters. 

"  No,  cap',"  was  the  reply ;  "  the  varmints 
ain't  strong  enough  for  that.  They  hoped  to 
surprise  us ;  but  as  they  haven't  done  so, 
they'll  never  risk  buttin'  thar  heads  agin  these 
log  walls.  They've  got  too  much  sense  for 
that.  They'll  stay  about  here  till  after  dark, 
so  they  can  carry  off  them  men  lyin'  yonder; 
and  maybe  they'll  try  to  set  the  fort  on  fire 
during  the  night.  We'll  have  to  keep  a  sharp 
lookout ;  but  I  don't  think  we  need  fear  any 
thing  from  them." 

"  Do  you  think  they  will  retreat  by  morn 
ing?"  asked  John. 


BORDER   WAR.  14! 

"P'r'aps  so,"  replied  the  hunter;  "but  thar's 
no  tellin'.  They  may  hang  around  here  two 
or  three  days,  hoping  to  cut  off  some  straggler 
from  the  fort;  so  you'll  have  to  keep  your 
people  up  pretty  close  for  a  while,  cap' ;  but  I 
can't  say  what  they  intend  doin'.  They're 
queer  critters,  them  Injuns." 

Acting  upon  the  advice  of  the  old  hunter, 
Captain  Oxenford  gave  orders  that  a  strict 
watch  should  be  kept  over  all  parts  of  the  fort 
during  the  night ;  and  for  this  purpose  one  man 
was  stationed  in  each  block-house,  and  one  at 
the  gate,  while  the  rest  of  those  who  were  able 
to  handle  a  weapon  were  held  in  readiness  for 
any  emergency  in  one  of  the  cabins  on  the  side 
nearest  the  enemy.  The  savages  remained 
quiet,  however,  and  in  a  short  time  the  dark 
ness  came  on. 

It  was  a  very  cool  night,  and  the  men  were 
given  permission  to  build  a  fire  in  the  cabin 
where  they  were  assembled.  Their  suppers 
were  brought  to  them  by  their  wives  and  chil 
dren,  and  when  this  meal  was  over,  they  re- 


142  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

mained  in  the  cabin,  awaiting  the  movements 
of  the  Indians.  Some  were  gathered  around 
the  fire  talking,  while  others  were  stretched  out 
on  the  floor,  smoking  silently  their  corn-cob 
pipes.  The  fire  threw  a  warm,  rich  glow  over 
the  rugged  scene,  bringing  out  every  detail  in 
the  most  picturesque  style.  Bill  Davis  was  in 
his  element.  Seated  in  one  corner  of  the  huge 
fireplace,  he  was  telling  his  hearers  tales  of 
his  experience  as  an  Indian-fighter.  John  Ox- 
enford,  who  had  become  a  sort  of  pet  with  him 
since  the  affair  with  the  Indians,  two  years 
before,  was  lying  on  the  floor,  with  his  head 
resting  against  the  old  man's  knee,  and  Dan 
Whittaker  was  standing  in  the  shade  of  the  fire 
place,  leaning  against  the  wall,  and  resting 
both  hands  on  his  rifle.  Both  boys  were  listen 
ing  eagerly  to  the  hunter's  story ;  for  Achilles 
himself  was  never  greater  in  the  estimation  of 
those  "  who  warred  against  Troy,"  than  was 
Bill  Davis  in  the  eyes  of  these  pioneer 
boys. 

"Yes,"  said  the  old  man,  knocking  the  ashes 


BORDER    WAR.  143 

from  his  pipe,  preparatory  to  filling  it  again, 
"lied  a  wild,  venturesome  life  before  I  came 
to  this  here  settlement,  and  I  don't  know  how 
soon  I  may  go  at  it  again,  for  I'm  pretty  tired 
of  bein'  cooped  up  in  a  pen ;  but  whatever  I 
do,  lad,"  he  added,  patting  John  softly  on  the 
head,  "I'll  make  this  fort  my  stopping-place, 
and  I'll  be  here  off  and  on,  for  I  mean  to  keep 
an  eye  on  you  as  long  as  I  live,  for  I  know 
you'll  make  your  mark  yet." 

"Thank  you,  Bill,"  said  John,  touched  by 
the  hunter's  affection  for  him.  "  I  should  be 
very  sorry  to  have  you  leave  us,  and  I  don't 
see  why  you  should,  for  everybody  here  likes 
you,  and  I  should  be  real  lonesome  without 
you,  and  so  would  Dan." 

"I  know,  lad,"  said  the  hunter,  softly;  "I 
know.  I'll  stay  as  long  as  I  can ;  but  I'm 
afeard  I  shan't  be  able  to  hold  out,  for  I  feel  a 
kind  of  longin'  to  be  out  in  the  woods  agin. 
But,"  he  added,  quickly,  "that  ain't  tellin' you 
about  that  fight  I  had  with  the  Injuns  four 
years  ago." 


144  PLANTING    THE   WILDERNESS. 

"Let  us  have  it,"  cried  several  voices.  "We 
won't  interrupt  you  this  time,  Bill." 

"Very  good,"  said  the  hunter.  "You  can 
question  me  when  I  git  through,  if  you  want 
to  ;  but  you  must  let  me  tell  the  story  without 
botherin'  me,  or  I  can't  tell  it  at  all.  You  see," 
he  began,  lighting  his  pipe,  "four  years  ago 
there  warn't  no  settlements  along  the  Ohio, 
except  at  Wheeling,  and  on  Buffalo  and  Short 
Creeks,  which  lie  above  Wheeling.  The  set 
tlements  hadn't  come  down  this  far,  and  were 
scattered  along  the  Monongehela  country  to 
wards  Pennsylvania  and  Maryland.  Very  few 
people  had  ventured  to  come  over  the  moun 
tains,  and  the  country  west  of  them  was  pretty 
much  a  wilderness.  The  Injuns  had  left  it  and 
gone  across  the  Ohio,  but  they  still  hunted 
along  it,  and  this  made  our  people  somewhat 
timid.  Well,  a  party  of  settlers  had  located 
near  the  head  of  the  North  Branch  of  the 
Potomac,  and  had  built  'em  a  block-house, 
which  wasn't  a  circumstance  to  this  fort,  but 
which  did  pretty  well  as  a  defence  agin  the 


KT^ 

SURPRISE  OF  BILL  DAVIS.     Page  145. 


BORDER   WAR.  145 

red-skins.     I  used  to  hunt  in  this  region,  and 
I  made  the  block-house  my  headquarters. 

"  One  day,  just  four  years  ago  this  fall,  I  was 
riding  along  a  path  which  led  to  the  settlement, 
when  I  came  across  a  vine  full  of  wild  grapes. 
The  vine  was  just  loaded  down  with  the  fruit, 
and  the  grapes  looked  so  luscious  that  I  couldn't 
make  up  my  mind  to  pass  'em  by ;  so  I  rode  up 
under  the  vine,  and  in  a  few  minutes  I  had 
filled  my  cap  with  the  grapes.  Swingin'  my 
rifle  across  the  pommel  of  my  saddle,  I  held 
the  cap  in  my  hand,  and  rode  along  slowly  to 
wards  the  block-house,  eating  the  grapes  as  I 
went  along.  I  hadn't  an  idea  that  there  was 
danger  about,  for  I  hadn't  seen  the  least  sign  of 
an  Injun  during  the  whole  day ;  but  just  as  I 
had  got  my  mouth  full  of  the  grapes,  and  was 
spitting  out  the  stones  and  skins,  I  heard  two 
rifles  crack  within  a  dozen  yards  of  me,  one 
on  each  side  of  the  road.  One  of  the  balls  cut 
through  my  hunting-shirt,  and  grazed  my 
breast,  and  the  other  struck  my  horse  just 
back  of  the  saddle,  and  brought  him  down  in 
10 


146  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

his  tracks.  You  may  be  pretty  sure  I  was 
astonished,  and  I  come  near  choking  with  the 
grapes  I  had  in  my  mouth.  I  fell  with  my 
horse ;  but  the  next  minute  I  was  on  my  feet, 
with  my  rifle  in  my  hand.  I  might  have  run 
away,  for  I  was  pretty  good  at  a  foot-race ;  but 
I  couldn't  bear  to  have  it  said  that  I  ran  from 
only  two  Injuns.  I  was  bound  to  bring  down 
one  of  'em,  at  any  rate. 

"  As  I  jumped  on  my  feet,  after  the  fall  of  my 
horse,  I  heard  a  crashing  in  the  bushes,  and 
the  next  minute  a  big  red-skin  come  rushing 
at  me  with  his  tomahawk  in  his  hand.  I 
cocked  my  rifle,  and  kept  my  eye  on  him, 
ready  to  let  him  have  my  ball  as  soon  as  he 
should  come  close  enough.  He  saw  this,  how 
ever,  and  he  darted  behind  two  good-sized  sap 
lings,  which  were  about  a  foot  apart.  Neither 
of  these  trees  was  big  enough  to  cover  him, 
and,  to  keep  me  from  getting  a  shot  at  him, 
he  kept  jumping  from  one  to  the  other ;  and  for 
the  life  of  me,  I  couldn't  help  laughing  at  him, 
he  did  it  so  comically. 


BORDER    WAR.  147 

"  I  knew  I  had  two  of  the  varmints  to  deal 
with,  and  so  I  kept  a  pretty  sharp  lookout  for 
the  other.  I  saw  him,  at  last,  behind  a  tree, 
loading  his  gun.  The  tree  wasn't  quite  big 
enough  to  cover  him,  and  I  found  that  I  stood 
a  better  chance  of  hitting  him  than  the  other 
one ;  so  I  let  the  other  fellow  keep  up  his  dan 
cing,  and  watched  this  one  closely.  As  he  was 
ramming  his  bullet  down,  he  turned  his  side 
to  me,  and  exposed  himself  fairly.  I  blazed 
away,  and  broke  his  hip,  which  brought  him 
to  the  ground  too  much  disabled  to  cause  me 
any  more  trouble. 

"The  big  Injun  now  stopped  his  dancing, 
as  he  knew  that  my  gun  was  empty,  and 
made  a  dash  at  me  with  his  tomahawk  raised. 
He  stopped,  about  fifteen  feet  from  me,  and 
threw  the  tomahawk  at  me  with  all  his 
strength.  If  hie  had  hit  me,  I  wouldn't  have 
been  here  to-night ;  but  I  had  my  eye  on  him, 
and  I  dodged  the  blow,  and  the  weapon  flew 
far  out  of  the  reach  of  either  of  us.  I  then 
clubbed  my  rifle,  and  sprang  at  the  fellow. 


148  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

He  was  much  bigger  than  me,  but  I  rather 
think  I  had  the  advantage  of  him  in  muscle. 
I  tried  to  knock  him  down  with  the  but-end 
of  my  gun,  but  he  jumped  into  a  lot  of 
saplings,  and  every  time  I'd  strike  at  him, 
he'd  dodge.  In  this  way  I  broke  the  stock 
off  my  gun,  and  at  last  had  nothing  left  but 
the  naked  barrel.  I  could  have  easily  killed 
him  with  this,  if  I  could  have  got  a  fair 
lick  at  him  ;  and  at  last,  thinking  I  had  a  fair 
chance,  I  swung  the  iron  at  him,  in  a  side 
lick,  with  such  force  that  the  thing  flew  clean 
out  of  my  hands,  entirely  beyond  my  reach. 
The  big  Injun  gave  a  yell  at  this,  and 
sprang  at  me.  Neither  of  us  had  a  weap 
on  of  any  kind,  and  I  saw  that  we  were  in 
for  a  rough  roll-and-tumble  fight.  I  was  al 
ways  pretty  good  at  this,  and  I  closed  with 
him  at  once,  and  down  he  went  like  a  log.  I 
couldn't  hold  him  down,  though,  for  as  he 
was  naked,  and  had  his  hide  oiled,  he  could 
easily  slip  out  of  my  grasp,  and  get  up  on 
his  feet  agin'.  I  threw  him  down  five  or  six 


BORDER    WAR.  149 

times,  but  found  it  impossible  to  hold  him 
down.  My  wind  was  gitting  pretty  short,  and 
I  found  that  I  must  end  the  matter  pretty  soon ; 
so  I  resolved  to  change  my  plan.  I  threw 
the  Injun  down  agin',  but,  without  trying  to 
hold  him,  jumped  on  my  feet,  and  as  the  fel 
low  got  up,  I  hit  him  a  crack  between  the  eyes 
with  my  fist,  that  sent  him  sprawling  on  his 
back.  This  astonished  him,  I  can  tell  you ; 
but  he  was  up  and  at  me  in  a  second,  when  I 
hit  him  another  crack,  and  knocked-him  down 
agin'.  He  got  up  slower  this  time,  and  I  sent 
him  tlo\vn  a  third  time.  I  did  this  about  half 
a  dozen  times,  and  every  time  he  got  up 
slower.  At  last  I  had  a  fair  chance,  and  I 
let  fly  at  him,  striking  him  just  back  of  the 
ear.  He  went  down  about  a  little  more  than 
half  stunned,  and  I  jumped  on  him,  and, 
clutching  his  throat  with  my  left  hand,  tried 
to  choke  him  to  death,  keeping  my  right  hand 
free  for  use,  if  I  should  need  it.  The  fellow 
wasn't  so  dead  as  I  thought,  though,  for  in  a 
minute  I  felt  him  moving  his  right  arm,  which 


150  PLANTING    THE   WILDERNESS. 

lay  across  my  body,  and  looking  down  I  saw 
that  he  was  trying  to  git  at  his  hunting-knife, 
which  was  hanging  at  his  belt.  The  knife 
was  very  short,  and  was  so  tightly  wedged  in 
the  sheath  that  the  fellow  had  to  git  it  out 
by  pressing  his  finger  against  the  point.  I 
kept  my  eye.  on  him,  and  let  him  work  the 
handle  out,  and  then,  reaching  over  suddenly, 
I  grabbed  it,  .drew  it  from  the  sheath,  and 
drove  it  with  all  my  force  into  his  heart.  He 
gave  a  groan,  and  straightened  himself  out 
as  dead  as  a  hammer. 

"I  knew  I  had  disabled  the  other  Indian, 
but  to  what  extent  I  couldn't  say,  and  it  was 
just  as  likely  as  not  that  he  might  shoot  me 
at  any  moment;  so  I  sprang  to  my  feet,  and 
commenced  to  look  after  him.  I  found  that 
the  varmint  had  crawled  some  distance  towards 
the  place  where  I'd  been  fightin'  his  pardner, 
and  that  he  had  propped  his  back  agin'  a 
log,  and  was  try  in*  to  bring  his  gun  to  bear 
on  me.  Every  time  he  tried  to  aim  it,  how 
ever,  he  would  fall  forward,  and  would  have 


BORDER   WAR. 

to  push  agin'  his  gun  to  raise  himself.  I  didn't 
feel  like  bein'  shot  by  a  crippled  Injun,  and  I 
thought  I'd  had  about  as  much  exercise  as 
was  good  for  me ;  so  I  started  off  as  fast  as  I 
could  for  the  block-house.  I  got  there  about 
nightfall ;  and  a  hard-looking  case  I  was,  too. 
I  had  no  cap,  no  hunting-shirt,  no  horse,  and 
no  gun ;  and  the  worst  of  it  was,  that  the 
folks  in  the  fort  didn't  believe  the  story  I  told 
'em.  So  I  did  just  what  you  did,  John,  when 
I  didn't  believe  the  story  you  told  of  your 
escape ;  I  told  'em  I'd  go  with  'em  and  show 
'em  the  place. 

"  The  next  day  we  started  out,  —  about  half 
a  dozen  in  all, — and  when  we  came  to  the 
place  where  I'd  had  the  fight,  I  began  to  feel 
pretty  mean.  Thar  lay  the  dead  horse,  but 
not  a  sign  of  a  dead  Injun  was  to  be  seen. 
The  men  commenced  to  laugh  at  me  then, 
and  I  felt  like  a  fool.  We  looked  about,  how 
ever,  and  found  a  trail,  as  if  something  had 
been  dragged  away.  We  followed  it,  and  in 
about  five  minutes  found  the  body  of  the  big 


152  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

Injun  lying  beside  a  log,  covered  up  with 
leaves.  The  trail  continued  for  a  few  hun 
dred  yards  further,  and  thar  we  found  the  In 
jun  I  had  crippled  lying  on  his  back,  with 
his  own  hunting-knife  sticking  up  to  the  hilt 
in  his  body,  just  below  the  breast-bone.  It 
was  plain  that  he  had  killed  himself,  find 
ing  that  his  wound  had  rendered  it  impossible 
for  him  to  go  any  further.  We  had  a  long 
search  for  the  knife  with  which  I  killed  the 
big  Injun,  but  at  last  we  found  it.  The  crip 
pled  Injun  had  forced  it  down  into  the  ground 
by  the  weight  of  his  heel. 

"It  was  my  turn  to  laugh  now,  as  I  had 
proved  to  my  companions  the  truth  of  my 
story ;  but  I  couldn't  do  it,  for  the  life  of  me. 
The  way  that  crippled  Injun  had  stood  by  his 
friend,  even  after  he  was  almost  gone  himself, 
touched  my  heart,  and  I  couldn't  help  feelin' 
sorry  for  the  fellow.  He  was  a  brave  man 
and  a  true  friend,  if  he  was  an  Injun,  and  I 
have  always  respected  his  memory  ever  since ; 
for  'tain't  often  you  find  such  true  fellows 


BORDER   WAR.  153 

among  the  red-skins.  They're  generally  pretty 
apt  to  shift  for  themselves  in  times  of  trouble. 
That  was  about  the  toughest  tussle  I  ever  had 
with  the  varmints,  and  I  haven't  the  least  de 
sire  for  another  like  it.  But,  hallo!"  he  ex 
claimed,  starting  to  his  feet,  as  a  bright,  red 
light  shone  in  through  the  loop-holes,  "  what 
are  they  up  to  now  ?  " 

All  rushed  to  the  loop-holes  and  looked  out. 
The  bright  glare  of  a  fire  lit  up  the  fields 
and  woods,  and  the  settlers  saw  that  the  sav 
ages  had  fired  the  stack  of  fodder  in  the  corn 
field.  It  was  a  lucky  thing  for  them  that  so 
little  was  left  exposed  to  the  enemy,  for  the 
whole  crop  would  have  shared  the  same  fate 
had  it  been  left  without  the  walls  of  the  fort. 
The  Indians  kept  well  under  the  cover  of  the 
woods,  however,  and  not  one  of  them  could 
be  seen.  The  fire  burned  down  at  length, 
and  during  the  hours  of  darkness  the  embers 
continued  to  glow  dimly.  The  night  passed 
away  quietly,  and  towards  morning  all  but  the 
sentinels  were  permitted  to  go  to  sleep;  and 


154  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

in  consequence  of  this,  it  was  some  time  after 
sunrise  before  the  garrison  was  stirring  again. 
The  Indians  had  carried  off  their  wounded 
and  slain  comrades,  under  the  cover  of  the 
darkness,  and  they  took  good  care  not  to  add 
to  their  list  of  casualties  by  exposing  them 
selves  again.  They  hung  about  the  fort  dur 
ing  the  day  and  a  part  of  the  next,  firing  an 
occasional  shot  on  the  morning  of  the  third 
day,  but  at  length  abandoned  their  enterprise, 
and  withdrew  in  the  direction  of  the  Ohio. 


THE   SCOUT.  155 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    SCOUT. 

BY  the  spring  of  1777  the  country  along  the 
Ohio  River,  on  the  Virginia  side,  was  begin 
ning  to  be  very  well  settled.  There  was  a 
chain  of  forts,  or  block-houses,  extending  from 
Buffalo  Creek,  where  the  town  of  Wellsburg 
now  stands,  to  below  Fish  Creek.  Of  these, 
the  most  important  were  Rice's  Fort,  on  Buffalo 
Creek,  about  twelve  or  fifteen  miles  from  its 
mouth,  the  fort  at  Wheeling  (the  name  of  which 
was  now  changed  from  Fort  Fincastle  to  Fort 
Henry,  in  honor  of  Patrick  Henry,  the  great 
champion  of.  American  liberty) ,  and  the  fort  at 
Grove  Creek.  That  at  Fish  Creek  was  com 
paratively  isolated,  and  had  not  yet  acquired 
the  importance  which  the  others  had  attained. 
The  country  from  the  Ohio  River  towards  the 
Monongehela  "was  more  thickly  settled,  and 


156  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

was  growing  stronger  every  day ;  but  that  por 
tion  lying  immediately  along  the  former  stream 
was  still  weak,  and  exposed  to  the  savages. 

In  the  spring  of  1777,  however,  a  number  of 
clearings  were  made  back  of  Fish  Creek. 
Captain  Oxenford  and  the  commanding  officer 
at  Grove  Creek  warned  the  parties  making 
these  settlements  of  the  danger  they  were 
incurring  in  separating  themselves  from  the 
communities  already  established ;  but  the  new 
comers,  trusting  more  in  their  own  judgment 
than  in  the  experience  of  those  who  had  pre 
ceded  them,  replied  that  they  did  not  apprehend 
any  danger,  and  that  they  could  easily  take 
refuge  in  one  of  the  forts  in  case  the  Indians 
did  make  a  descent  upon  them.  It  was  impos 
sible  to  compel  these  people  to  listen  to  reason, 
and  they  were  left  to  themselves.  As  we  shall 
see,  the  sequel  proved  the  wisdom  of  the  older 
settlers.-  During  the  spring  several  men  came 
into  the  fort  to  seek  shelter.  They  were  all 
experienced  woodsmen,  and  Captain  Oxenford 
was  glad  to  receive  them,  as  they  formed  a  very 
valuable  addition  to  the  garrison. 


THE    SCOUT.  157 

In  spite  of  the  danger  which  attended  it,  the 
regular  work  of  putting  in  the  crops  was  done. 
In  order  to  guard  against  a  surprise,  scouts 
were  thrown  out  at  a  distance  of  an  eighth  of 
a  mile  beyond  the  cornfield,  and  once  or  twice 
they  exchanged  shots  with  a  straggling  Indian 
lurking  near;  but,  with  these  exceptions,  the 
savages  left  the  settlement  in  peace  during  the 
spring. 

About  the  second  week  in  July,  however,  the 
sentinel  on  duty  at  the  gate  of  the  Fish  Creek 
fort  saw  a  man  and  a  woman  running  from  out 
the  woods  towards  the  fort.  The  woman  had 
something  clasped  in  her  arms,  and  the  man 
carried  a  good-sized  child  in  his.  As  they 
came  near,  the  sentinel  saw  that  they  were 
whites,  and  that  the  bundle  in  the  woman's 
arms  was  an  infant.  The  gate  was  thrown 
open,  and  the  fugitives  rushed  in.  They  were 
at  once  surrounded  by  the  settlers,  who  recog 
nized  them  as  a  family  which  had  recently 
located  in  a  clearing  about  six  miles  from  the 
fort.  When  they  were  sufficiently  recovered, 


158  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

they  said,  in  reply  to  the  questions  of  the  set 
tlers,  that  they  had  been  awakened  a  little  be 
fore  daybreak  by  a  succession  of  yells,  which 
they  knew  at  once  could  come  only  from  In 
dians.  Springing  from  their  bed,  they  rushed 
to  the  door  and  looked  out.  Two  cabins,  which 
stood  at  a  distance  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from 
them,  were  in  flames,  and  the  Indians  were 
yelling  and  dancing  like  fiends  about  the  burn 
ing  buildings.  There  could  be  no  doubt  as  to 
the  fate  of  the  occupants  of  the  cabins,  and 
it  was  certain  that  the  savages  wrould  visit  the 
cabin  of  the  Jones  family,  —  for  this  was  the 
name  of  the  fugitives,  —  in  a  few  minutes. 
There  was  no  time  to  be  lost,  if  they  would 
save  their  lives ;  and  so,  catching  up  their  chil 
dren  from  the  bed,  they  left  the  cabin,  and, 
hurrying  into  the  woods,  fled  towards  the  fort. 
They  had  not  gone  far  when  they  heard  a  yell 
of  rage  in  the  direction  of  their  house,  and 
immediately  a  bright  glare  shot  up  above  the 
trees,  and  they  knew  their  home  was  in  flames. 
They  hastened  on,  however,  with  all  their 


THE    SCOUT.  159 

speed,  and  reached  the  fort  almost  exhausted 
with  fatigue.  It  was  still  early  morning  when 
they  arrived,  and  the  day  was  bright  and  clear. 
A  thin  smoke  hovering  above  the  woods  in  the 
direction  of  the  clearing  of  the  Joneses  con 
firmed  their  story. 

Every  one  felt  that  the  misfortunes  of  the 
fugitives,  who  had  now  lost  everything  in  the 
world,  was  due  to  their  folly  in  refusing  to  come 
into  the  fort  when  warned  by  Captain  Oxen- 
ford  ;  but  this  did  not  prevent  the  settlers  from 
according  them  their  warmest  sympathy.  A 
cabin  in  the  fort  was  assigned  them,  and  each 
family  gave  them  something  from  their  little 
store,  so  that  by  nightfall  the  Joneses  were  tol 
erably  comfortable.  They  had  a  cabin  to  them 
selves,  an  abundance  of  food,  and  a  bed  for 
themselves  and  the  children. 

The  next  day,  no  signs  of  the  Indians  hav 
ing  been  seen  about  the  fort,  Captain  Oxenford 
proposed  that  a  party  should  go  out  and  ascer 
tain  the  fate  of  the  people  who  had  been  at 
tacked  by  the  savages.  As  the  enemy  might 


l6o  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

still  be  lurking  in  the  neighborhood,  this  mis 
sion  would  be  attended -with  some  danger,  and 
he  called  for  volunteers  to  accompany  him. 
Seven  men  volunteered  to  go  with  him,  and  at 
their  earnest  request,  John  and  Dan  were  al 
lowed  to  join  the  party.  Tom  Jones  was  one 
of  the  number,  and  he  was  directed  to  act  as 
guide.  The  arms  of  the  men  were  carefully 
examined  before  starting,  and  at  eight  o'clock 
the  party  left  the  fort  for  the  scene  of  the  mas 
sacre.  They  travelled  rapidly,  but  cautiously, 
and  reached  the  place  in  about  two  hours  after 
setting  out.  Nothing  was  seen  or  heard  of  the 
savages  on  the  way,  and  it  was  supposed  that 
they  had  withdrawn  from  the  vicinity  immedi 
ately  after  the  attack  on  the  cabins. 

Upon  reaching  the  site  of  Jones's  cabin, 
which  was  the  first  on  the  route,  they  found  it 
in  ashes.  Everything  was  destroyed.  The 
growing  corn  was  trampled  down,  and  the 
carcasses  of  his  cow,  pigs,  and  sheep  lay  near 
the  site  of  the  cabin.  The  savages  had  evi 
dently  taken  great  pains  to  make  their  work  of 


THE    SCOUT.  l6l 

destruction  as  complete  as  possible,  and  the 
owner  of  the  clearing  had  been  unusually  for 
tunate  in  escaping  with  his  family  in  safety. 
The  ground,  which  was  soft  clay,  bore  the 
marks  of  many  feet,  and  upon  a  careful  ex 
amination  of  this  trail,  Bill  Davis,  the  hunter, 
said  that  the  enemy  had  numbered  about  fifteen 
men.  Following  the  trail,  the  settlers  came  to 
the  ruins  of  the  two  cabins  which  had  been 
first  assailed.  The  work  of  destruction  was  as 
complete  here  as  at  the  cabin  of  the  Joneses. 
All  the  buildings  were  in  ashes,  the  stock  lay 
about,  with  their  throats  cut,  and  the  corn  was 
trampled  down  and  destroyed.  But  this  was 
not  the  worst.  A  heap  of  charred  bones  in 
the  midst  of  the  ashes  told  that  the  occupants 
of  the  dwelling  had  either  fallen  by  the  hands 
of  the  enemy,  and  had  been  flung  into  the 
flames,  or  that  they  had  been  burned  to  death. 
One  of  the  families  had  consisted  of  six  people, 
three  of  whom  were  young  children,  and  the 
other  of  four,  namely,  the  parents  and  two 
half-grown  girls.  Six  of  them  had  perished 
ii 


162  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

on  the  spot,  but  the  other  four  had  evidently 
been  carried  into  captivity,  for  there  were  the 
marks  of  shoes  on  the  ground,  one  of  them  a 
girl's,  another  a  man's,  another  a  woman's,  and 
the  fourth  print  was  made  by  the  bare  feet  of 
a  little  child.  The  men  followed  the  trail  for 
some  distance,  and  found  that  it  led  towards 
the  Ohio,  at  a  point  above  the  mouth  of  Fish 
Creek.  The  savages  had  evidently  escaped 
with  their  prisoners,  so  that  it  was  useless  to 
think  of  following  them.  The  men  then  went 
back  to  the  clearing,  and  collecting  the  black 
ened  bones,  buried  them  in  a  common  grave, 
which  they  dug  with  their  hunting-knives. 
This  done,  they  returned  to  the  fort,  which  they 
reached  late  in  the  afternoon. 

Several  weeks  passed  away  without  any  fur 
ther  trouble  from  the  savages.  Towards  the 
middle  of  August,  Captain  Oxenford  was  ac- 
cocted  one  morning  by  Bill  Davis,  the  hunter, 
as  he  was  crossing  the  yard  of  the  fort.  The 
old  man  had  .just  returned  from  a  visit  to 
Wheeling,  and  had  been  waiting  for  an  hour 
or  two  to  see  the  cajptain. 


THE    SCOUT.  163 

"I  say,  cap',"  he  said,  as  the  commander 
of  the  fort  passed  him,  "  I  want  to  speak  a 
word  with  you." 

"Well,"  said  the  captain,  pausing,  "what 
is  it?" 

"  I  saw  Colonel  Shepherd  at  Fort  Henry 
yesterday,"  said  the  hunter,  in  a  low* tone,  "and 
he  told  me  to  say  to  you  that  a  lot  of  muskets 
and  ammunition  had  been  sent  there  from  the 
east,  for  the  forts  along  the  border.  You'll 
get  your  share  to-morrow.  They'll  be  put  on 
a  raft  at  Wheeling  to-night,  and  floated  down 
the  Ohio  to  the  mouth  of  this  here  creek. 
They'll  be  here  by  daybreak,  and  you  must 
have  your  men  there  to  receive  them.  The 
colonel  says  you  must  be  very  cautious,  as  a 
number  of  Indian  scouts  have  been  seen  in 
this  part  of  the  country." 

The  men  were  ordered  to  hold  themselves 
in  readiness  a  little  before  daybreak  the  next 
morning,  and  at  that  time  they  set  off  for  the 
mouth  of  the  creek,  taking  with  them  two  or 
three  of  the  horses.  A  force  was  left  at  the 


164  PLANTING   THE    WILDERNESS. 

fort,  sufficient  to  hold  it  against  any  attack, 
but  no  one  was  informed  of  the  object  of  the 
expedition.  They  reached  the  mouth  of  the 
creek  about  daylight.  The  raft  was  in  sight, 
floating  slowly  down  the  current.  The  river 
was  very  low  at  this  season,  and  the  current 
was  sluggish.  It  was  half  an  hour  before  the 
vessel  reached  the  place  where  the  party  had 
halted.  It  brought  two  men  from  the  garri 
son  of  Fort  Henry,  and  two  boxes,  contain 
ing  twenty  muskets,  several  kegs  of  powder, 
and  a  quantity  of  bullets.  As  the  raft  touched 
the  shore,  two  or  three  rifle-shots  were  fired 
from  the  Indian  side,  showing  that  the  enemy 
were  not  far  away,  and  that  the  precautions 
of  Colonel  Shepherd  were  necessary.  It  was 
but  the  work  of  a  few  minutes  to  remove  the 
articles  from  the  raft,  and  transfer  them  to  the 
pack-saddles  with  which  the  horses  were  pro 
vided.  This  done,  the  party  returned  to  the 
fort,  covering  their  march  with  a  detachment, 
consisting  of  Bill  Davis,  and  two  other  men, 
who  remained  half  an  hour  on  the  river  shore, 


THE    SCOUT.  165 

to  observe  the  movements  of  the  enemy.  The 
Indians  made  no  effort  to  come  over  the  stream, 
however,  and  the  hunter  came  to  the  conclu 
sion  that  the  force  on  the  opposite  shore  was 
merely  a  party  of  scouts,  from  whom  they  need 
not  fear  an  attack. 

The  arms  and  ammunition  were  sent  out  by 
the  government  of  the  State  of  Virginia,  and 
were  to  be  used  only  for  the  defence  of  the  fort.. 
They  were  carefully  put  away  in  the  store 
house.  The  settlers  were  all  provided  with 
rifles,  which  they  preferred  to  muskets,  and 
they  declared  they  had  but  little  confidence  in 
the  efficacy  of  the  heavy  smooth-bores. 
„,  Several  days  after  this  the  old  hunter  an 
nounced  his  intention  of  making  a  scout  in  the 
Indian  country.  Seeking  out  John  Oxenford, 
who  was  now  a  well-grown  youth  of  eighteen, 
he  asked  him  if  he  would  like  to  accompany 
him.  John  replied  that  nothing  would  please 
him  better,  provided  his  father's  consent  to  the 
undertaking  could  be  obtained ;  and  this  the 
hunter  undertook  to  gain.  He  at  once  sought 


1 66  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

the  captain,  and  laid  his  request  before  him. 
Captain  Oxenford  was  willing  that  his  sons  — 
for  Thomas  was  now  a  boy  large  enough  for 
such  things  —  should  bear  their  part  of  the 
dangers  and  trials  to  which  the  whole  settle 
ment  was  subject ;  but  he  hesitated  at  the 
thought  of  allowing  John  to  encounter  the  per 
ils  of  the  proposed  expedition,  for  which  there 
was  really  no  necessity. 

"  He's  got  to  learn  to  be  an  Injun-fighter, 
pretty  soon,  cap',"  said  the  hunter,  "  and  he  had 
just  as  well  begin  now ;  and,  though  I  say  it, 
he  won't  find  a  better  teacher  anywhere  than 
me." 

ff  I  know  that,  Davis,"  said  the  captain. 
"There  isn't  a  man  in  the  settlement  that  I'd 
trust  quicker  than  you ;  but  I  don't  see  the  use 
of  this  scout.  It  seems  to  me  like  flying  in  the 
face  of  danger." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  the  hunter.  "  I  should 
die  with  the  blues  if  I  didn't  take  one  of  these 
tramps  occasionally.  You'd  better  let  the  boy 
go  with  me.  It'll  do  him  good." 


THE    SCOUT.  167 

The  captain  hesitated  a  long  time,  but,  at 
length,  yielded  to  the  argument,  that,  as  John 
had  to  begin  his  education  as  an  "  Injun-fight 
er"  before  very  long,  he  might  as  well  com- 
mence  at  once.  He  consented,  however,  upon 
the  condition  that  the  hunter  should  return  in 
a  fortnight,  to  which  the  old  man  agreed. 
John  then  donned  his  best  suit  of  deer-skin  and 
his  bear-skin  cap,  and  took  the  rifle  which  he 
had  won  from  the  Indian  he  had  killed  at  the 
lime  of  his  escape,  and  set  out  with  the  old 
man. 

They  left  the  fort  at  sunset  one  bright  August 
afternoon,  and,  as  they  turned  into  the  woods, 
they  paused  to  wave  adieu  to  the  boy's  parents, 
who  were  standing  at  the  gate,  watching  them 
depart.  They  were  soon  out  of  sight  of  the 
fort,  however,  and  John  was  glad  of  it,  for  his 
eyes  filled  with  tears  as  he  looked  back  at  those 
he  loved  so  much. 

"Never  mind,  lad,"  said  the  hunter;  "we'll 
be  back  before  long,  and  I'll  warrant  me  you'll 
have  a  rare  story  to  tell  the  old  folks." 


l68  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

They  passed  along  leisurely,  and,  a  little 
after  dark,  reached  the  Ohio,  about  half  way 
between  the  mouths  of  Grove  Creek  and  Fish 
Creek.  The  river  was  so  low  that  the  water 
in  the  channel  came  only  to  their  waists,  and, 
removing  their  moccasons  and  leggings,  they 
passed  over  to  the  Indian  shore  without  diffi 
culty.  Once  in  the  country  of  the  savages, 
the  hunter's  manner  changed.  His  footsteps 
were  lighter  and  more  cautious,  and  he  was 
constantly  on  the  alert.  At  the  slightest  sound 
he  would  pause  and  listen  intently.  He  spoke 
very  little ;  and  when  he  did  so,  it  was  in  the 
lowest  and  most  cautious  tone.  They  struck 
off  boldly  from  the  Ohio ;  and  by  the  moon 
light  John  could  see  that  they  were  following 
a  beaten  track,  which  his  companion  informed 
him  was  a  Shawnee  trail.  They  camped  for 
the  night  in  the  thick  woods,  just  as  the  moon 
went  down,  and  were  up  the  next  morning  by 
sunrise.  They  breakfasted  on  the  provisions 
they  had  brought  with  them,  and  which  con 
sisted  of  dried  venison  and  parched  corn. 


THE    SCOUT.  169 

During  the  day  they  travelled  silently,  — that  is, 
very  rarely  indulging  in  conversation,  —  and 
two  more  days  were  passed  in  the  same  way. 
On  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day  the  hunter  shot 
a  stag,  as  the  animal  was  drinking  at  a  brook, 
a  little  after  sunrise.  They  cut  off  such  meat 
as  they  could  use,  and  dragged  the  carcass 
into  the  trees.  Then,  building  a  fire  by  the  side 
of  the  brook,  they  broiled  the  venison  on  the 
coals.  The  fatigue  of  the  journey,  and  the 
light  diet  upon  which  they  had  been  living, 
had,  no  doubt,  sharpened  the  boy's  appetite, 
for  John,  thought  he  had  never  eaten  anything 
so  delicious  as  the  rich  venison  steak  which  he 
helped  to  devour  that  morning. 

Thus  far  they  had  seen  nothing  but  game, 
«at  which  Bill  Davis  would  not  allow  his  com 
panion  to  fire,  however,  lest  the  report  might 
draw  the  savages  upon  them,  if  any  were  lurk 
ing  in  the  neighborhood.  John  asked  him 
where  the  path  they  were  following  led.  The 
hunter  replied  that  it  was  the  path  to  the  Indian 
towns  on  the  Scioto  River,  near  which  the 


I7O  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

present  city  of  Chillicothe  is  located.  He 
said  he  was  going  as  near  to  those  towns  as 
he  thought  it  prudent  to  venture,  as  he  was 
anxious  to  see  for  himself  if  the  Indians  really 
meditated  anything  like  an  organized  expedi 
tion  against  the  whites.  The  old  man  now  be 
came  more  talkative  than  he  had  been,  and  told 
the  boy  many  a  story  of  his  adventures  among 
the  savages.  This  day  passed  away  very 
pleasantly  in  this  manner,  and  at  nightfall  they 
went  into  camp  again.  They  lighted  no  fire  this 
time,  as  the  hunter  said  they  were  too  far  in  the 
Indian  country  to  do  so  with  prudence.  About 
an  hour  after  dark,  Davis  sprang  to  his  feet 
with  a  sudden  exclamation. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  asked  John,  eagerly. 

"Matter  enough,"  replied  Davis.  "We  are 
nearer  to  the  Indians  than  I  supposed." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  ?  " 

"I  can  see  their  camp  fire,"  was  the  reply. 

"  I  can  see  nothing,"  said  John,  looking 
around  searchingly. 

"That's  likely  enough,  lad,"  said  the  hunter; 


THE    SCOUT. 

"but  when  you're  as  old  as  I  am,  and  have  had 
as  much  experience  with  the  Injuns  as  I  have, 
your  eyes '11  be  better.  Look  yonder." 

The  hunter  pointed  in  the  direction  in  which 
they  had  been  travelling  during  the  day,  and 
John  strained  his  eyes  to  see  what  had  caused 
his  alarm  ;  but  he  was  disappointed. 

"  I  can  see  nothing,"  he  said ;  "  I  think  you 
must  be  mistaken." 

The  hunter  laughed  softly,  and  then,  step 
ping  behind  the  boy,  he  took  his  head  between 
his  hands,  and  turned  his  face  in  the  direction 
in  which  he  wished  him  to  look. 

"  Now  look  at  the  tops  of  them  hickory  trees 
over  yonder,"  he  said.  "  Do  you  see  a  light 
haze  just  over  the  topmost  branches?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  John,  after  a  pause,  during 
which  he  made  out  the  light  distinctly,  "  I  can 
see  it  very  plainly." 

"That,"  said  the  hunter,  releasing  his  head, 
"is  the  glare  of  their  camp  fire  on  the  sky. 
They  are  right  in  our  track,  and  it's  lucky  we 
didn't  build  a  fire  to-night,  for  that  might  have 
betrayed  us  to  them." 


172  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

"  Do  you  think  there  are  many  of  them  ? " 
asked  the  boy. 

"I  can't  say,"  answered  the  hunter.  "The 
light  isn't  very  strong  on  the  sky,  and  I  think 
they  have  only  one  fire,  or  two  at  the  most, 
burning ;  but  how  many  of  them  are  in  the 
gang  is  more  than  I  can  tell  yet." 

"What  do  you  intend  doing?  "  asked  John. 

"Well,"  said  the  hunter,  slowty,  "I'm  going 
to  take  a  peep  at  them." 

"  Then  I'll  go  with  you,"  said  the  boy.  "  It  '11 
be  rare  fun  to  see  them  without  being  seen." 

"Well,  lad,  that  depends  upon  circumstances. 
I've  looked  at  Injuns  at  times  when  I  thought  it 
anything  but  fun.  We've  got  into  a  very  dan 
gerous  situation,  and  we  might  as  well  go  for 
ward  as  go  back,  for  these  red  devils  will  find 
our  trail  in  the  morning,  and  pursue  us.  My 
plan  is,  to  try  and  scare  'em  off,  if  they  are  not 
too  strong,  and  if  they  are,  to  go  around  them, 
and  when  they  pass  on  in  the  morning,  to  fall 
in  behind  them,  and  travel  in  their  rear.  We'll 
have  to  be  mighty  cautious ;  and  as  you  value 


THE    SCOUT.  173 

your  neck,  my  boy,  you  must  obey  every  order 
I  give,  without  waiting  to  have  it  explained." 

"Very  good,"  said  John.  "You  will  find 
me  very  obedient  in  all.  things." 

"All  right,  then,"  said  Davis.  "Take  your 
gun  now,  and  come  along.  Put  your  feet  down 
flat,  so,"  he  added,  showing  the  boy  how  to 
place  his  feet,  "and  you'll  make  no  noise. 
Now  let's  be  off;  and  don't  you  talk,  unless 
you  are  spoken  to." 

They  set  off  slowly  and  cautiously,  moving 
in  the  shade  of  the  trees.  The  light  over  the 
trees  grew  brighter,  and  soon  they  could  see  it 
shining  through  the  woods.  Long  experience, 
added  to  an  unusual  keenness  of  vision,  had 
given  the  hunter  the  power  of  discerning  ob 
jects  by  night  as  distinctly  as  in  the  day ;  and 
he  led  the  way,  scanning  the  dim  woods  closely, 
with  strained  eyes.  Every  moment  brought 
the  two  nearer  to  the  Indian  camp,  and  in 
creased  their  danger  of  stumbling  across  some 
of  the  savage  scouts  or  sentinels ;  but  Prov 
idence  favored  them,  and  they  succeeded  in 


174  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

gaining  the  very  outskirts  of  the  camp  without 
being  discovered.  Here  they  paused,  and,  ly 
ing  down  in  the  undergrowth,  peered  anx 
iously  through  the  bushes  at  the  scene  before 
them. 

A  large  fire  had  been  built,  and  around  it 
about  a  dozen  Indians  were  seated.  They  were 
hideously  decked  out  with  war-paint  and  feath 
ers,  and  were  evidently  prepared  for  a  grand 
foray  upon  the  settlements.  They  were  talk 
ing  merrily  about  something  which  John  could 
not  understand,  and  would  frequently  burst  into 
shouts  of  exultant  laughter.  The  hunter,  who 
could  speak  the  Shawnee  dialect,  understood 
them,  and  John  heard  him  grind  his  teeth 
furiously. 

"  I'm  going  up  closer  to  them,  to  try  to 
frighten  them  off,"  he  whispered  to  John.  "  Lie 
here  perfectly  still.  Don't  fire,  unless  you 
hear  me  do  so." 

He  crept  a\vay  softly,  and,  after  considera 
ble  exertion,  managed  to  pass  into  the  camp, 
and  to  climb  into  a  large  tree,  the  branches  of 


THE    SCOUT.  175 

which  were  not  more  than  sixty  feet  from  the 
fire.  As  he  settled  himself  noiselessly  among 
the  boughs,  he  thought,  for  the  first  time,  how 
foolish  he  had  been  in  thus  exposing  himself 
and  his  companion  to  danger ;  and,  as  he 
looked  down  upon  the  scene  below,  he  could 
not  help  asking  himself  how  they  should  get 
away.  The  least  sound  might  betray  them, 
and  he  knew,  if  they  fell  into  the  hands  of  those 
below,  they  could  expect  no  mercy.  He  had 
been  too  dangerous  to  them  to  Jiope  they  would 
spare  him.  He  listened  carefully  to  the  talk 
of  the  savages,  and  then  decided  upon  his 
plan  of  action,  which  was  as  singular  as  it 
was  successful'.  It  was  a  plan  which  not  ten 
men  in  ten  thousand  could  have  carried  out. 
Among  his  many  natural  gifts  was  that  of  ven 
triloquism  ;  and  as  this  had  often  been  of  use 
to  him  in  his  expeditions  as  a  hunter  and  a 
scout,  he  determined  to  make  use  of  it  now. 
He  understood  thoroughly  the  superstitious  na 
ture  of  the  Indian,  and  he  'was  about  to  trust 
entirely  to  it  for  his  own  safety  and  that  of  his 
companion. 


176  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

Carefully  surveying  the  scene  below,  he 
crawled  out  noiselessly  among  the  thick  branch 
es  of  a  limb  of  the  tree  which  was  nearest 
to  the  fire.  Then,  throwing  his  voice  down 
among  the  blazing  fagots,  he  startled  the  In 
dians  by  crying,  in  a  loud  voice,  in  the  Shaw- 
nee  tongue,  — 

"  Warriors,  why  have  you  started  on  the  war 
path  ?  You  are  marching  to  your  death  ! " 

The  savages  sprang  to  their  feet  in  astonish 
ment,  and  the  hunter  lay  very  still  in  the  tree. 
Then  began  a  confused  jabber  of  tongues,  and 
the  dusky  group  gathered  around  the  fire, 
pointing  to  it,  and  gesticulating  energetically. 
The  Indians  were  very  badly  frightened ;  but 
at  length  a  circle  was  formed  around  the  fire, 
and  one,  who  was  evidently  the  chief,  stepped 
out  alone,  preparatory  to  addressing  them.  As 
he  opened  his  lips  to  speak,  the  hunter  threw 
his  voice  into  the  chief's  mouth,  and  gave  a 
prolonged  howl.  The  savage  started  back  in 
dismay,  and  then  Davis,  with  a  remarkable 
facility,  changed  the  voice  from  one  painted 


THE   SCOUT.  177 

brave  to  another,  causing  them  to  utter  noises 
like  cats  and  dogs,  and  to  give  utterance  to 
the  most  insulting  speeches.  The  chief  tried 
to  speak  again,  but  before  he  could  do  so, 
the  hunter  shouted  out  from  the  fire,  in  good 
Shawnee,  to  return  home  at  once;  that  the 
curse  of  the  Great  Spirit  was  upon  the  expe 
dition.  Then  he  made  such  a  buzzing  about 
the  ears  of  the  chief,  that  the  man  gave  a  yell 
of  fear,  and,  turning,  fled,  at  full  speed,  into 
the  depths  of  the  forest.  The  remainder  of  the 
band  hesitated,  but  a  fresh  imprecation  from 
the  ventriloquist  decided  them,  and  they  fled 
in  dismay. 

As  soon  as  they  were  fairly  out  of  sight, 
the  hunter  swung  himself  down  from  the  tree, 
and,  hastening  to  where  he  had  left  John,  who 
had  witnessed  the  scene  with  the  most  complete 
bewilderment,  touched  the  lad  hurriedly. 

"  Get  up  at  once,  John,"  he  said,  hastily. 
"We  must  be  off  from  here.  Those  fellows 
may  come  back,  after  their  fright  wears  off,  and 
we  must  get  as  much  of  a  start  as  we  can." 

12 


178  PLANTING    THE   WILDERNESS. 

John  was  on  his  feet  in  an  instant,  and  the 
two  set  off  rapidly.  They  realized  the  danger 
in  which  they  were  placed,  and  travelled  with 
out  speaking,  until  about  two  hours  before 
daybreak.  Then,  leaving  the  Indian  trail,  they 
turned  into  the  woods,  and  the  hunter  bade 
John  lie  down  and  get  as  much  sleep  as  pos 
sible,  as  they  must  be  off  at  sunrise.  John 
gladly  obeyed,  for  he  was  worn  out  with  the 
extraordinary  fatigue  of  the  past  day,  and, 
throwing  himself  down,  he  was  soon  fast  asleep. 
His  companion  aroused  him  shortly  after  sun 
rise,  and  they  continued  their  march,  or,  rath 
er,  their  flight,  until  nightfall,  when,  finding 
that  they  were  not  pursued,  the  hunter  decided 
to  camp  for  the  night. 

During  the  day  John  asked  the  old  man  the 
cause  of  the  sudden  terror  and  flight  of  the 
Indians.  The  hunter  laughed  heartily  at  the 
question,  and  then  explained  to  the  boy  the 
wonderful  gift  with  which  he  was  blessed.  lie 
made  John  pledge  his  honor  never  to  reveal 
the  secret,  for,  he  said,  it  would  be  of  no  use 


THE    SCOUT.  179 

to  him  if  it  got  out,  for  the  Indians  would  be 
sure  to  hear  it,  and  he  could  never  deceive 
them  again. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  fourth  day,  they 
reached  the  Ohio  at  the  place  where  they  had 
crossed  it  eight  days  before,  and  by  sunset 
they  were  safe  on  the  Virginia  shore.  They 
stopped  at  the  water's  edge  to  put  on  their 
lower  garments,  which  they  had  removed  in 
crossing,  and  were  chatting  gayly,  —  for  the 
hunter  considered  that  they  were  now  out  of 
danger,  — when  they  were  startled  by  the  sharp 
crack  of  a  rifle  on  the  Indian  side.  The  ball 
cut  a  hole  in  John's  bear-skin  cap,  and  startled 
him  not  a  little.  The  two  caught  up  their 
clothing,  and  hurried  up  the  bank,  where  they 
finished  their  dressing,  watching  the  Indian 
shore  closely  in  the  mean  time;  but  no  one 
was  visible  there. 

"It  was  some  Indian  scout,  I  reckon,"  said 
the  hunter,  "  and  it's  powerful  lucky  for  us  that 
he  didn't  blaze  away  at  us  while  we  were  on 
the  other  side." 


l8o  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

A  rustle  in  the  bushes  attracted  John's  atten 
tion  at  this  moment.  He  had  cocked  his  rifle, 
and  was  holding  it  in  readiness  for  use  in  case 
any  one  should  attempt  to  cross  the  river  after 
them ;  and  as  he  heard  the  rustle  in  the  bushes, 
which  had  escaped  the  hunter's  ear,  he  turned 
abruptly,  and  saw,  to  his  astonishment,  an  In 
dian,  not  twenty  yards  from  them,  in  the  act  of 
aiming  his  rifle  at  them.  It  was  the  work  of 
an  instant  to  bring  his  gun  to  his  shoulder  and 
fire.  The  shot  was  at  random,  but  it  was  ex 
cellent,  for  the  ball  struck  the  savage  full  in  the 
forehead,  just  as  he  was  in  the  act  of  sighting 
his  rifle,  and  laid  him  on  the  ground,  a  lifeless 
corpse. 

"What  are  you  shooting  at?"  exclaimed  the 
hunter,  sharply ;  for  he  had  been  so  much  occu 
pied  in  watching  the  Indian  shore  that  he  had 
been  unconscious  of  the  danger  which  had 
threatened  them. 

"Look  yonder,"  said  John,  pointing  to  the 
dead  Indian. 

"  Whew  I  "    muttered   the   old    man,   turning 


THE   SCOUT.  iSl 

pale  in  spite  of  himself  at  the  thought  of  his 
narrow  escape,  "  they  are  as  thick  as  hornets. 
That  was  well  done,  though,  lad.  You'll 
make  a  good  hunter,  if  you  live  long  enough. 
Come,  now,  and  I'll  show  you  how  to  take  his 
sculp." 

Conquering  his  repugnance,  John  went  with 
the  hunter  to  the  body,  and  in  a  moment 
severed  the  savage's  scalp  from  his  head.  This 
he  swung  at  his  belt,  in  true  hunter  style,  while 
the  old  man  secured  the  Indian's  rifle,  which 
he  said  was  too  good  a  weapon  to  be  lost. 

"Now,"  said  John,  "I  suppose  we  may  as 
well  go  back  to  the  fort." 

"Yes,"  replied  the  hunter;  "the  sooner  we 
git  thar,  the  better  for  us.  These  Injuns  is 
mighty  thick  about  here,  and  I'm  afeard  some 
mischief's  afoot." 

They  struck  through  the  woods  at  a  rapid 
pace,  and  reached  the  fort  about  nine  o'clock. 
They  were  at  once  admitted,  and  warmly  wel 
comed.  The  old  hunter  told  the  story  of  the 
flight  of  the  Indians  without  revealing  his  se- 


1 82  PLANTING    THE   WILDERNESS. 

cret,  and  professed  to  regard  it  as  a  very  mys 
terious  affair.  While  John  wisely  concluded 
to  volunteer  no  information  upon  the  subject, 
Bill  Davis  was  loud  in  his  praise  of  the  boy  for 
his  conduct  during  the  scout,  and  the  manner 
in  which  he  had  killed  the  Indian  drew  forth 
the  old  man's  warmest  admiration. 


THE   SIEGE.  183 


CHAPTER   X. 

THE    SIEGE. 

THE  next  morning  Bill  Davis  was  up  at  sun 
rise  as  fresh  as  ever ;  but  John  slept  late,  as  he 
was  unused  to  such  severe  fatigue  as  he  had 
undergone  during  the  scout,  and  was  stiff  and 
sore  from  it.  As  the  hunter  crossed  the  yard, 
he  saw  Tom  Oxenford,  now  a  little  over  six 
teen  years  old,  and  a  good-sized  boy,  standing 
near  the  gate,  fixing  his  gun  hastily. 

"What's  the  matter,  Tom?"  he  asked,  at 
tracted  by  the  eagerness  with  which  the  boy 
was  working.  "What  are  you  doing  that 
for?" 

"  I'm  going  to  shoot  a  turkey  that  I  hear  gob 
bling  on  the  hill-side,"  replied  the  boy. 

"  I  hear  no  turkey,"  said  the  hunter,  listen 
ing. 

"I  heard  him  distinctly  just  a  minute  ago," 


184  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

said  Tom,  "  and  if  he's  there  yet,  I  mean  to 
have  him.  There,  don't  you  hear  him?"  he 
exclaimed. 

This  time  the  hunter  did  hear  what  the  boy 
supposed  to  be  a  turkey,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
the  sound  was  repeated  again. 

"Well,  Tom,"  said  the  old  man,  quietly,  "I'll 
go  and  kill  that  turkey." 

"No,  you  won't,"  cried  Tom;  "it's  my  tur 
key,  for  I  heard  it  first." 

"Your  fathers  orders  are  positive  that  you 
shall  not  leave  the  fort,"  said  the  hunter. 
"Besides,  I'm  the  best  marksman;  and  as  I 
don't  want  the  turkey,  I'll  go  and  kill  it  for 
you." 

Tom  had  forgotten  all  about  his  father's 
orders  in  his  eagerness  to  get  a  shot  at  the  tur 
key,  and  he  recollected  now  that  it  would  be 
impossible  for  him  to  leave  the  fort  in  the  face 
of  this  prohibition.  He  handed  his  gun  to  the 
hunter  with  a  sigh. 

"All  right,  Bill,"  he  said;  "but  remember 
it's  my  turkey." 


THE    SIEGE.  185 

Bill  Davis  left  the  fort  at  once ;  but  instead  of 
going  in  the  direction  of  the  sound,  he  walked 
rapidly  up  the  creek,  to  the  disappointment  of 
Tom,  who  felt  sure  that  he  would  miss  the 
turkey.  The  hunter  entered  the  woods  about 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  above  the  fort,  and,  guided 
by  the  gobbling,  passed  around  through  the 
trees,  in  order  to  come  upon  the  turkey  from 
behind.  In  a  few  minutes  he  came  in  sight  of 
it,  and  a  glance  confirmed  his  suspicions.  An 
Indian  was  sitting  on  a  chestnut  stump,  par 
tially  concealed  by  a  small  bush,  and  was  gob 
bling  like  a  turkey.  He  was  waitirg  to  see  if 
any  one  would  come  out  from  the  fort  to  kill 
the  turkey,  in  which  case  he  would  be  sure  to 
kill  the  person  before  the  latter  could  discover 
the  deception.  He  was  utterly  unconscious  of 
the  hunter's  presence,  however,  and  the  old 
man  crept  up  cautiously  within  easy  range  of 
him,  and  shot  him  through  the  head.  He  took 
the  fellow's  scalp,  and  hastened  back  to  the 
fort. 

Tom     Oxenford,    who     had    been    waiting 


1 86  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

impatiently  at  the  fort,  heard  the  shot,  and  was 
in  great  eagerness  to  get  his  prize.  As  he  saw 
the  old  man  come  in  through  the  gateway 
without  the  turkey,  he  almost  cried  with  vexa 
tion. 

"  There,  now,"  he  exclaimed,  sharply, 
"you've  let  the  turkey  go.  I  knew  you 
would.  I  would  have  killed  it  if  I  had  gone." 

"I  didn't  let  it  go,  Tom,"  said  the  hunter, 
quietly. 

"Then  where  is  it?"  asked  the  boy. 

"There,"  replied  the  old  man,  throwing  the 
bloody  scalp  down  on  the  ground  before  the 
boy.  "  There,  Tom,  take  your  turkey  ;  I  don't 
want  it." 

Tom  gazed  at  the  scalp  in  utter  bewilder 
ment,  and  then  there  flashed  across  his  mind  a 
full  sense  of  the  dreadful  fate  from  which  Bill 
Davis's  quickness  and  good  sense  had  saved 
him  ;  and  seizing  the  old  man's  hand,  he  burst 

into  tears. 

"There,  there,  lad,"  said  the  hunter,  laugh 
ing  ;  "  don't  blubber  at  a  dead  Injun's  sculp. 


THE    SIEGE.  187 

But  I  say,  Tom,"  he  added,  roguishly,  "  don't 
you  ever  mistake  a  red-skin  for  a  turkey 
agin'." 

The  incident  was  soon  known  throughout 
the  fort,  and  "Tom's  turkey"  became  a  by 
word. 

•V 

A  week  passed  away  quietly.  About  the 
tenth  of  September,  news  was  received  from 
Grove  Creek  that  the  savages,  under  the  in 
famous  renegade  Simon  Girty,  had  attempted 
to  capture  Fort  Henry,  at  Wheeling,  and  had 
been  defeated.  The  messenger  went  back  to 
Grove  Creek  that  night,  and  as  it  was  not 
improbable  that  the  Indians  might  make  an 
attempt  on  the  fort  at  Fish  Creek,  Captain 
Oxenford  resolved  to  be  on  his  guard. 

Four  of  the  men  left  the  fort  one  morning 
to  cross  over  to  the  south  side  of  the  creek  to 
get  a  kettle  that  had  been  left  in  one  of  the 
cabins.  They  had  reached  the  water,  and 
were  about  to  ford  it,  when  several  shots  were 
fired  at  them  from  the  woods.  One  of  the 
men  fell  dead  at  the  verge  of  the  creek,  and 


1 88  PLANTING  THE  WILDERNESS. 

the  other  three  started  at  full  speed  for  the  fort. 
The  gate  Was  held  in  readiness  to  admit  them ; 
but  as  they  came  within  fifty  yards  of  the 
defences,  a  heavy  volley  was  poured  at  them 
from  the  woods  with  fatal  effect. 

"Bar  up  the  gate,  boys,"  cried  Bill  Davis, 
quickly.  "  Them  poor  fellows  is  out  of  harm's 
way  now ;  but,  if  I  ain't  mightily  mistaken 
we're  in  for  a  sight  of  work." 

The  gate  was  made  fast,  and  the  settlers, 
alarmed  by  the  heavy  firing,  came  rushing 
out  of  their  cabins  into  the  yard,  to  learn  the 
cause  of  it.  The  first  person  that  approached 
Bill  Davis  was  the  wife  of  one  of  the  men 
who  had  been  killed.  The  hunter  did  not 
know  how  to  tell  her  of  her  loss,  and  he  ran  by 
her  without  replying  to  her  eager  questions. 

"Get  your  guns,  men,"  he  shouted;  "the  fort 
is  attacked." 

Then  hurrying  to  Captain  Oxenford's  quar 
ters,  ^he  called  to  Mrs.  Oxenford,  who  was 
busy  helping  her  husband  to  cut  away  the 
wooden  strips  which  covered  the  loop-holes. 


THE    SIEGE.  189 

"Mrs.  Oxenford,"  said  he,  "Vent  and  Spen 
cer  have  been  killed  by  the  savages.  Please 
go  and  tell  their  wives,  for  I  haven't  the  heart 
to  do  it.  You  women  can  do  these  things 
better  than  I  can." 

Mrs.  Oxenford  hastened  to  the  cabins  of  the 
afflicted  families,  but  the  poor  women  had  al 
ready  heard  the  sad  news,  and  were  weeping 
violently.  She  did  what  she  could  to  comfort 
them ;  but,  ah  I  the  kindest,  tenderest  sympathy 
is  powerless  to  console  in  cases  like  this. 

"  How  many  men  have  we  lost,  Davis  ? " 
asked  Captain  Oxenford,  as  his  wife  went 
out.  * 

"  Four,  sir ;  Vent  and  Spencer,  and  two  of 
the  hunters.  Vent  was  killed  first,  and  the 
others  were  cut  down  by  that  volley  you  heard 
jist  now.  Take  my  word  for  it,  cap',  we've 
got  trouble  in  store  for  us,  for  thar's  a  strong 
body  of  Injuns  in  them  woods." 

Captain  Oxenford,  having  cleared  away  the 
loop-holes  in  his  quarters,  now  hurried  into  the 
yard  of  the  fort,  and  summoned  the  men  to 


1 90  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

his  side.  The  garrison  at  this  time  consisted 
of  sixteen  able-bodied  men  and  boys,  all  of 
whom  were  good  marksmen.  These  were  re 
quired  to  have  their  powder-horns  and  bullet- 
pouches  slung  at  their  sides,  and  the  women 
were  set  to  moulding  the  lead  into  bullets,  and 
preparing  bandages  for  those  who  might  be 
wounded.  These  things  once  arranged,  the 
.men  were  ordered  to  occupy  the  cabins  and 
block-houses  on  the  side  nearest  the  Indians, 
who  were  still  in  the  woods. 

It  was  but  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
and  the  day  was  bright  and  beautiful.  The 
Indians  were  still  concealed  in  the  woods,  and 
had  remained  perfectly  quiet  after  firing  the 
volley  which  killed  the  settlers,  not  even  ven 
turing  out  to  scalp  their  victims.  Half  an 
hour  passed  away,  and  the  silence  began  to 
be  oppressive.  The  garrison  had  orders  to 
await  the  movements  of  the  enemy,  and  to 
fire  slowly  and  deliberately,  and  not  to  \\ 
a  shot.  At  the  end  of  the  half  hour  a  terrific 
yell  arose  from  the  woods,  and  the  Indians 


THE    SIEGE. 

emerged  from  their  cover,  and  advanced  to 
wards  the  fort.  They  were  about  three  hun 
dred  strong,  and  their  line  extended  from  the 
woods  around  to  the  creek,  and  down  to  the 
cornfield  in  the  bottom.  As  they  left  the 
woods,  a  loud  whoop  arose  on  their  right,  and 
was  taken  up  and  passed  along  their  line  from 
right  to  left.  They  threw  their  left  wing  into 
the  cornfield,  their  right  clung  to  the  woods 
just  back  of  the  fort,  and  detached  parties 
were  thrown  into  the  cabins  and  stables  of 
Captain  Oxenford  and  Mr.  Whittaker,  which 
were  within  rifle  range  of  the  fort.  This  dis 
position  of  the  savage  forces  was  very  skilful, 
as*  it  placed  nearly  every  man  under  cover, 
and  occupied  ground  from  which  a  sharp  fire 
could  be  directed  upon  the  fort.  It  took  about 
twenty  minutes  to  complete  these  arrangements, 
and  at  the  end  of  that  time  an  Indian  advanced 
from  the  woods  towards  the  fort,  carrying  a 
dirty  white  cloth,  which  he  waved  as  a  flag 
of  truce.  He  paused  within  speaking  distance, 
and  gave  a  loud  halloo ! 


PLANTING   THE    WILDERNESS. 

"What  do  you  want?"  asked  Captain  Oxen- 
ford,  who  was  standing  at  one  of  the  loop 
holes. 

"Me  big  Injun  —  heap,"  said  the  savage, 
striking  his  breast  pompously. 

"  You  are  very  well  grown  for  your  age,  my 
beauty,"  cried  Bill  Davis,  who  was  looking 
out  from  the  loop-hole  next  to  the  captain. 

The  settlers  greeted  this  remark  with  a 
laugh,  which  seemed  to  excite  the  Indian's 
wrath,  for  he  struck  his  breast  still  more  vio 
lently,  and  called  out  lustily,  — 

"  Me  big  Injun ;   much  heap." 

"What  do  you  want?"  called  Captain  Oxen- 
ford  again. 

"  Give  up,  give  up  fort,"  shouted  the  savage. 
"Too  many  Injun.  Injun  too  big.  No  kill." 

"You  are  a  parcel  of  cowards,"  cried  the 
captain.  "  Come  on  as  soon  as  you  wish.  We 
are  ready  for  you ;  and  as  soon  as  you  show 
your  yellow  hides,  we'll  make  holes  in  them 
for  you." 

"  Go  back,"  called  the  old  hunter,  mocking- 


THE    SIEGE. 


193 


ly.  "  Tell  your  people  to  send  a  warrior  to 
talk  with  us.  You  are  an  old  squaw." 

The  savage  uttered  a  howl  of  rage  as  he 
heard  the  insulting  language  of  the  hunter. 
He  shook  his  fist  at  the  walls,  and  called  out 
something  in  the  Indian  tongue.  Just  then 
Tom  Oxenford,  unable  to  resist  the  temptation, 
fired  at  him,  and  the  ball  struck  him  in  the 
arm,  causing  him  to  drop  his  flag,  and  take 
to  his  heels. 

As  the  W7ounded  red-skin  reached  his  lines, 
the  Indians  fired  a  general  volley  at  the  fort, 
and  the  very  earth  seemed  to  shake  under  the 
discharge  of  the  three  hundred  rifles.  The  set 
tlers  could  hear  the  balls  strike  the  logs  with  a 
dull  thud ;  but  as  all  the  whites  were  under 
cover,  no  one  was  hurt.  The  firing  was  now 
kept  up  pretty  rapidly,  the  savages  feeling  so 
sure  of  success  that  they  fired  at  random.  The 
principal  attack  was  upon  the  north  side  of  the 
fort,  and  the  main  strength  of  the  garrison 
was  collected  there,  only  one  of  the  boys 
being  stationed  in  each  of  the  other  block- 
13 


194  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

houses  to  fire  upon  the  enemy,  and  watch  their 
movements  in  that  quarter.  The  whites  fired 
slowly  and  deliberately,  and  whenever  a  dusky 
warrior  exposed  himself  at  all,  he  was  sure  to 
receive  a  rifle-ball  as  the  reward  of  his  daring. 
The  savages  acted  in  a  very  reckless  manner, 
and  it  was  evident  that  they  were  all  very 
much  under  the  influence  of  whiskey.  Late 
in  the  afternoon  the  enemy  advanced  closer  to 
the  fort  on  the  side  of  the  woods,  and  as,  in 
doing  so,  they  exposed  themselves  more  than 
they  had  previously  done,  the  fire  from  the 
fort  became  more  rapid  and  fatal. 

John  Oxenford  had  been  stationed  in  the 
block-house  overlooking  the  cornfield,  to  which 
the  Indian  left  wing  still  clung.  He  could 
only  see  an  occasional  puff  of  smoke  from  the 
rows  of  corn,  and  hear  the  crack  of  a  hostile 
rifle  immediately  afterwards,  but  during  the 
morning  he  could  not  get  a  shot  at  anything. 
The  firing  on  the  other  side  of  the  fort  excited 
him  very  much,  and  it  required  all  his  reso 
lution  to  enable  him  to  stay  at  his  post. 


THE    SIEGE.  195 

In  the  afternoon,  however,  matters  changed. 
The  Indians,  finding  that  their  fire  was  not  re 
turned  on  this  side  of  the  fort,  seemed  to  think 
that  the  attention  of  the  garrison  was  occupied 
on  the  other  side,  and  that  they  might  be  able 
to  send  a  party  over  the  walls  in  this  quarter. 
About  four  o'clock  Dan  Whittaker  came  into 
the  block-house,  where  John  was  standing,  look 
ing  eagerly  through  a  loop-hole  at  the  move 
ments  of  the  Indians. 

"John,"  he  said,  "}^our  father  has  sent  me 
here  to  ask  how  matters  are  going  in  this 
quarter.  What  shall  I  say?" 

"  I  haven't  had  a  shot  at  them  to-day,  Dan," 
said  John,  without  turning  his  head. 

"What  are  you  looking  aj:?  "  asked  Dan, 
going  to  one  of  the  loop-holes. 

"  Look   at  those   Indians   in   the  cornfield," 
said  John.     "What  are  they  doing?" 

"  They  seem  to  be  coming  this  way,"  said 
Dan.  "You  keep  an  eye  on  'em,  John,  and 
I'll  go  ask  the  captain  to  send  some  of  the 
men  to  this  side." 


196  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

Dan  ran  out  of  the  block-house,  and  has 
tened  across  the  yard. 

"Til  have  a  shot  this  time,"  thought  John; 
and  sure  enough  he  was  right. 

About  thirty  Indians  now  left  their  cover  in 
the  cornfield,  and  commenced  to  creep  stealth 
ily  towards  the  fort.  Their  rifles  were  slung 
across  their  backs,  and  they  were  unencum 
bered  with  anything  that  could  impede  their 
progress.  John  watched  them  eagerly,  and, 
cocking  his  rifle,  brought  it  up  to  the  loop 
hole.  The  next  moment  the  Indians  were  with 
in  a  hundred  yards  of  the  walls.  One  of  them, 
who  seemed  to  be  the  leader  of  the  party, 
raised  his  hand  above  his  head,  to  wave  on 
his  men  ;  and,  taking  advantage  of  this,  John 
drew  a  bead  on  his  exposed  breast,  and  fired. 
The  savage  tottered  for  an  instant,  and  then 
fell  heavily  to  the  ground.  At  this  moment 
Dan  Whittaker  and  one  of  the  hunters  came 
bounding  into  the  room. 

"They're  right  on  us,  Dan.  Be  quick," 
cried  John,  who  was  reloading  his  rifle  with 
all  possible  speed. 


THE    SIEGE.  *        197 

"All  right,"  said  Dan,  as  his  companion 
and  himself  took  their  posts  at  the  loop-holes. 
"  There  are  three  more  men  in  the  block-house 
at  the  other  corner." 

The  Indians  had  hesitated  for  a  moment, 
as  they  saw  their  leader  fall ;  but  they  dashed 
forward  now  at  a  sharp  run,  encouraged  by 
the  fact  that  but  one  shot  had  been  fired  at 
them.  They  were  doomed  to  disappointment, 
however,  for  the  five  men,  who  had  come  to 
John's  assistance,  opened  on  them  from  the 
two  corners  of  the  fort  which  commanded  their 
approach,  and  as  each  man  had  marked  out 
his  victim,  the  fire  resulted  in  the  death  of  five 
Indians.  Still  the  savages  pressed  on,  uttering 
yells  that  made  the  hearers'  blood  run  cold. 
They  reached  the  base  of  the  walls,  and  some 
of  them  tried  to  climb  up  the  smooth  sides  to 
the  roof  above ;  but  the  defenders  had  now  re 
loaded,  and  were  prepared  for  them.  Each 
one  fired  at  will ;  and,  as  the  savages  were 
within  point-blank  range,  the  shots  were  all 
effective.  Not  one  was  thrown  away.  Two 


Ip  .       PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

of  the  red-skins  were  shot  on  the  walls,  and 
the  savages  began  to  find  that  they  were  in  a 
very  warm  place ;  so,  abandoning  the  under 
taking,  they  fled  in  dismay  to  the  cornfield, 
leaving  nine  of  their  men  on  the  ground,  and 
carrying  off  four  or  five  wounded.  The  set 
tlers  were  all  tried  marksmen,  and  it  was  very 
rare  that  their  shots  resulted  in  anything  but 
death. 

"That  was  pretty  well  done,'*  said  Dan 
Whittaker,  as  the  Indians  disappeared  in  the 
standing  corn.  "I  don't  think  they'll  try  that 
again  very  soon." 

"I  reckon  not,"  said  John.  "They've  been 
very  severely  punished ;  but  it  was  lucky  for 
us  all,  Dan,  that  you  came  here  when  you  did. 
I  couldn't  have  given  the  alarm  and  watched 
those  fellows  at  the  same  time ;  and  it  was  my 
shooting  that  chief  that  made  the  red-skins  halt. 
If  they  had  kept  on,  they  might  have  climbed 
the  wall  before  you  and  the  others  came." 

Late  in  the  afternoon  a  sharp  fire,  accom 
panied  by  loud  yells,  was  opened  on  the  west 


THE    SIEGE. 


199 


side  of  the  fort,  which  drew  most  of  the  gar 
rison  in  that  direction.  Under  the  cover  of 
this  attack,  a  party  of  eighteen  or  twenty  In 
dians,  armed  with  rails  and  logs  of  wood,  made 
an  impetuous  dash  at  the  gateway  of  the  fort. 
The  movement  was  detected,  however,  by  old 
Bill  Davis. 

"Come  on,  boys,"  he  cried,  excitedly,  rush 
ing  to  the  cabins  where  the  men  were  engaged ; 
"the  red  devils  are  beating  down  the  gate. 
Quick !  they'll  be  inside  in  a  minute." 

Captain  Oxenford  sent  ten  men,  with  the 
old  man,  to  the  row  of  stables,  the  loop-holes 
of  which  commanded  the  gateway.  They  ar 
rived  in  good  time,  for  the  savages  were  already 
battering  away  at  the  enclosure,  which  was 
not  capable  of  withstanding  such  heavy  blows. 
The  settlers  opened  a  sharp  fire  upon  the  as 
tonished  Indians,  who  had  imagined  that  their 
movement  was  not  known  to  the  whites,  and 
in  five  minutes  the  enemy  were  driven  back, 
with  the  loss  of  five  or  six  of  their  number. 
Their  comrades  greeted  this  failure  with  yells 


2OO  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

of  rage,  and  until  sunset  poured  a  heavy  fire 
upon  the  fort  from  all  sides.  Only  one  man 
was  wounded  in  the  garrison.  A  rifle  ball 
came  into  one  of  the  block-houses,  through  a 
loop-hole,  and  struck  one  of  the  settlers  in  the 
shoulder.  The  wound  was  painful,  but  not  at 
all  dangerous,  and  the  man  was  turned  over  to 
the  women,  who  dressed  his  shoulder. 

At  nightfall  the  fire  of  the  savages  slackened, 
and  for  several  hours  only  an  occasional  shot 
was  fired.  No  one  slept  in  the  fort.  The  men 
were  equally  distributed  among  the  four  block 
houses,  and  were  ordered  to  hold  themselves 
in  readiness  to  repel  an  attack  at  any  moment. 
There  was  no  necessity  for  this  order,  however, 
for  no  one  felt  like  sleeping  with  the  enemy 
so  near. 

John  Oxenford,  Dan  Whittaker,  and  Bill 
Davis  were  all  in  the  same  block-house.  No 
lights  were  allowed  in  the  fort,  for  it  was  feared 
that  they  might  draw  the  fire  of  the  savages 
upon  the  loop-holes,  and  that  some  one  might 
be  injured  in  this  way.  The  two  boys  rarely 


THE    SIEGE.  2OI 

left  the  loop-holes,  and  kept  straining  their  eyes 
through  the  darkness  to  try  to  make  out  the 
movements  of  the  enemy.  About  an  hour  after 
midnight,  John  touched  Dan,  and  told  him  to 
watch  the  ground  about  half  way  between  the 
two  block-houses  on  this  side  of  the  fort. 

"There  is  something  moving  there,  I  am  cer 
tain,"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone. 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Dan ;  "  it's  your  imagina 
tion." 

"I  mean  to  give  it  a  shot,  anyhow,"  said 
John ;  and,  slipping  his  gun  through  the  loop 
hole,  he  aimed  carefully  at  the  object  which  had 
attracted  his  attention.  The  report  of  his  rifle 
was  answered  by  a  howl  of  pain,  and  the  boys 
heard  the  scampering  of  feet  in  the  direction 
of  the  Indian  lines. 

"What  do  you  think  of  that,  Dan?"  John 
asked,  triumphantly. 

"Well,"  replied  Dan,  "you  were  right  it 
seems ;  but  I  never  should  have  fired  at  that 
thing." 

The  next  morning  it  was  found  that  the  In- 


2O2  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

dians  had  removed  their  dead  during  the  night, 
and  had  scalped  and  horribly  mutilated  the  set 
tlers  that  had  been  killed  at  the  opening  of  the 
attack.  On  the  spot  where  John  had  wounded 
the  Indian  during  the  night  was  a  considerable 
quantity  of  fodder  and  dried  grass.  The  boy 
pointed  it  out  to  the  old  hunter,  and  asked  if  he 
could  tell  why  it  was  placed  there. 

"  O,  yes,"  replied  the  old  man ;  "  that's  plain 
enough.  The  varmint  you  shot  last  night  was 
try  in'  to  put  it  under  the  wall  of  the  fort." 

"  What  was  that  for  ?  "   asked  the  boy. 

"To  burn  us  out,  you  ninny,"  said  the  old 
man,  laughing;  "but  when  you  hit  him,  he 
dropped  it,  I  suppose,  and  ran  back ;  so  your 
shot  saved  us  a  powerful  sight  of  trouble.  Put 
ting  out  that  fire  under  the  rifles  of  the  red- 
bellies  wouldn't  have  been  any  fun,  I  can  tell 
you." 

The  savages  reopened  the  attack  at  sunrise, 
and  continued  it  during  the  day.  Their  losses 
had  been  so  severe,  however,  that  they  were 

more  prudent  than  during  the  first  day.     They 

i 


THE    SIEGE.  2O3 

kept  under  cover,  and  it  was  rare  that  the  set 
tlers  were  able  to  inflict  any  injury  upon  them. 
The  men  were  much  worn  down  by  loss  of 
sleep  and  fatigue,  and  Captain  Oxenford,  think 
ing  it  likely  that  it  would  be  necessary  to  keep 
them  up  all  night,  stationed  a  sentinel  in  each 
block-house,  with  orders  to  keep  up  a  show  of 
firing,  and  gave  the  rest  permission  to  sleep 
on  the  floor  of  the  block-houses  in  which  they 
were  stationed.  He  did  not  close  his  eyes, 
however. 

During  all  this  time,  the  women  had  behaved 
nobly.  Even  the  poor  creatures  whose  hus 
bands  had  been  killed  kept  their  grief  to  them 
selves,  and  refrained  from  embarrassing  or 
unmanning  the  defenders  of  the  fort  by  a  show 
of  timidity.  They  were  busy  moulding  bullets, 
and  kept  the  men  well  supplied  with  them. 
They  served  them  with  their  meals  at  their 
posts,  and  throughout  the  whole  siege  not  a 
murmur  or  a  timid  word  was  heard  from  them. 
They  were  a  brave,  heroic  race,  those  pioneer 
women,  and  they  were  worthy  mothers  of  the 


204  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

men  who  have  made  the  sweet  west  so  powerful 
and  glorious. 

Bill  Davis  kept  the  captain  company.  He 
could  not  sleep,  he  said,  with  the  rifles  of  the 
enemy  cracking  all  around  him,  and  as  for 
fatigue,  he  was  used  to  that.  He  kept  a  close 
watch  over  the  movements  of  the  enemy,  for  he 
had  very  little  faith  in  the  vigilance  of  the  sen 
tinels  in  the  block-houses. 

"  Look  yonder,  cap',"  he  exclaimed ;  "  look 
at  them  Injuns  by  your  cabin,  over  yonder. 
Hang  me  if  they  hain't  got  a  white  gal  along 
with  'em." 

The  captain  looked  in  the  direction  indicated, 
and,  sure  enough,  there  was  a  white  woman 
in  the  midst  of  the  savages.  She  disappeared 
in  a  few  minutes,  leaving  the  two  men  very 
much  perplexed  by  her  presence  in  such  in 
appropriate  company. 

"She's  a  prisoner,  I  reckon,"  said  the  hunter. 
w  She's  some  poor  cretur  the  red-bellies  has 
stolen  away ;  and  if  they  don't  kill  her,  they'll 
take  her  with  'em,  and  make  a  squaw  of 


THE    SIEGE.  2O5 

her;  and,  to  my  mind,  that's  jist  as  bad  as 
losin'  your  har." 

At  sunset  the  fire  of  the  Indians  was  in 
creased,  and  a  fresh  attempt  was  made  to  storm 
the  gateway ;  but  this  was  driven  off,  with  a 
loss  of  six  or  seven  men  to  the  enemy. 

As  the  savages  retired,  the  defenders  heard 
a  loud  cheer  without,  accompanied  by  rapid 
firing,  and  a  succession  of  Indian  yells.  -*The 
sounds  grew  louder,  and  seemed  to  be  coming 
towards  the  fort.  The  -hunter  hastened  to  the 
block-house,  which  commanded  a  view  of  the 
spot  from  which  the  noise  proceeded.  The 
next  moment  he  came  rushing  back. 

"Open  the  gate,"  he  shouted.  "There's  a 
company  of  mounted  men  coming  to  help  us, 
and  they're  cutting  their  way  through  the  In 
juns.  Open  the  gate,  and  let  'em  in." 

The  horsemen  were  now  within  a  few  yards 
of  the  fort,  and,  as  the  gate  was  thrown  open, 
they  dashed  into  the  enclosure  at  full  speed. 
The  Indians  pressed  on  hotly  after  them,  and 
tried  to  enter  the  •  fort  with  them ;  but  the 


206  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

settlers,  who  had  been  expecting  this,  gave  the 
savages  a  volley  which  sent  them  reeling  back 
towards  the  cornfield.  The  gate  was  closed 
and  securely  barred,  and  the  garrison  turned 
to  welcome  their  friends.  The  new  corners 
consisted  of  twenty  men  from  Grove  Creek. 
They  had  heard  of  the  attack  on  the  fort  from 
their  scouts,  and  had  hastened  to  the  assist- 
anc*  of  their  friends.  Fortunately,  they  had 
but  two  men  wounded  in  cutting  their  way 
through  the  Indians.  They  were  warmly  wel 
comed,  for  their  generous  heroism  was  fully 
appreciated  by  the  settlers. 

After  the  arrival  of  the  horsemen,  the  fire  of 
the  Indians  ceased  altogether,  and  during  the 
next  five  or  six  hours,  everything  was  per 
fectly  still.  Some  of  the  settlers  thought  the 
savages  had  given  up  the  siege  and  withdrawn ; 
but  Bill  Davis  shook  his  head  sagely,  and  de 
clared  they  were  only  up  to  some  "  deviltry." 

About  midnight,  John  Oxenford  was  cross 
ing  the  yard  from  his  father's  quarters  to  the 
block-house,  to  which  he  *had  been  assigned, 


THE    SIEGE.  207 

and,  in  doing  so,  he  passed  by  the  gate.  He 
thought  he  heard  a  faint  tapping  at  it,  and 
paused  to  listen. 

"  Please  let  me  in,"  cried  a  plaintive  voice 
without.  John  listened  again,  and  the  cry  was 
repeated. 

"Who  are  you,  and  what  do  you  want?"  he 
asked,  going  up  to  the  gate. 

"  Let  me  in ;  the  Indians  wrill  kill  me,"  cried 
the  voice,  loudly.  Then  it  added,  in  a  low 
tone,  "Can  you  hear  me  if  I  speak  very  low  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  John,  lowering  his  own  voice  ; 
"but  what  do  you  want?" 

"  I'm  a  girl,"  said  the  voice  in  a  low  tone. 
"  The  Indians  took  me  prisoner  yesterday  morn 
ing.  They  have  sent  me  here  to  get  you  to 
open  the  gate  and  let  me  in ;  but  don't  do  it  — 
don't  do  it.  As  soon  as  you  open  the  gate  for 
me,  they  will  rush  in,  and  murder  the  garrison. 
They  will  kill  me  if  I  fail,  but  I  had  better  die 
than  all  of  you." 

"Where  are  the  Indians?"  asked  the  boy, 
touched  by  the  girl's  heroism. 


208  PLANTING   THE    WILDERNESS. 

r> 

"They  are  lying  on  the  ground  within  a  few 
yards  of  the  gate,"  she  answered,  "and  can 
hear  you,  if  you  speak  very  loud." 

"  Stay  here  till  I  come  back,"  said  John,  "and 
keep  your  ear  close  to  the  gate,  so  you  can 
hear  me  when  I  speak  to  you.  I  mean,  to  try 
to  save  you,  and  I  think  I  can  do  it." 

The  girl  continued  her  cry,  and  John  has 
tened  to  find  his  father  and  the  old  hunter,  to 
whom  he  related  the  strange  occurrence. 

"She's  a  noble  girl,"  said  the  captain,  "and 
we  must  save  her,  if  we  can." 

"  She's  the  gal  we  saw  this  morning,"  said 
the  hunter;  "and,  between  us,  I  think  we  can 
save  her." 

The  old  man  then  stated  to  the  captain  a 
plan  for  the  rescue  of  the  girl,  which  was  in 
stantly  approved.  The  three  then  hastened  to 
the  gate,  where  the  girl  was  still  uttering  her 
cries. 

"Are  you  there  yet?"  asked  John,  in  a  low 
tone. 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  cautiously. 


THE    SIEGE.  209 

"Where  are  the  Indians?" 

"  In  the  same  place." 

"Can  they  see  you?" 

"No,  not  plainly;  it  is  too  dark." 

"Then  listen  to  me,"  said  John.  "A  rope 
will  be  lowered  over  the  wall,  about  three  feet 
from  the  right  hand  side  of  the  gate,  in  a  few 
minutes.  Move  yourself  there  cautiously,  and 
feel  along  the  wall  till  you  find  the  rope.  Tie 
the  lower  end  of  it  to  your  waist,  and  catch 
it  above  your  head  with  your  hands.  When 
you  have  done  this,  pull  the  rope  gently  with 
your  hands,  so  that  we  may  know  when  you 
are  ready,  and  we  will  draw  you  up  on  the 
roof." 

"  O,  thank  you  !  thank  you  ! "  said  the  girl, 
eagerly.  "  Go'd  bless  you  for  your  kindness." 

"Hush!"  said  John.  "The  Indians  will 
hear  you.  Now  go,  for  wre  shall  lower  the 
rope  right  away." 

John  joined  his  father  and  the  hunter,  who 
had  climbed  to  the  roof  of  the  stables,  and  had 
dropped  one  end  of  a  stout  rope  over  the  wall 


210  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

at  the  appointed  place.  In  a  minute  or  two 
they  felt  the  rope  being  drawn  gently  once  or 
twice,  which  was  the  signal  that  all  was  in 
readiness  below.  All  three  then  seized  the 
rope,  and,  the  girl's  light  weight  offering  but 
a  slight  obstacle  to  their  united  efforts,  they 
soon  had  her  drawn  up  to  the  roof.  The 
next  moment  she  was  by  their  side. 

"  Now,"  said  the  captain,  w  get  down  that 
ladder  into  the  yard,  quick.  They  may 
see  us." 

He  had  scarcely  spoken,  when  several  shots 
were  fired  at  them  from  without,  followed  by 
a  scattering  volley,  telling  plainly  that  the  In 
dians  had  discovered  the  rescue  of  the  girl, 
and  the  failure  of  their  own  ruse.  But  the 
fire  did  no  damage.  The  girl  had  reached 
the  yard,  and  the  others  lay  down  flat  on  the 
sloping  roof,  and  the  balls  whistled  over  them. 
As  soon  as  the  firing  ceased,  they  swung  them 
selves  down  into  the  yard,  where  the  rescued 
captive  was  awaiting  them. 

"Now,  John,"   said   the   captain,  "you   and 


THE    SIEGE.  211 

Davis  must  go  back  to  your  posts.  I'll  take 
this  girl  to  your  mother,  and  she  shall  look 
after  her  to-night." 

The  group  then  separated.  Towards  morn 
ing  a  bright  light  shone  in  through  the  loop 
holes,  and  it  was  found  that  the  Indians  were 
setting  fire  to  the  cabins  outside  of  the  fort. 

"That's  a  good  sign,"  said  the  hunter. 

"Why?"   asked  John. 

"  It  means  that  they've  given  up  the  hope 
of  taking  the  fort,  and  are  going  away,"  was 
the  reply.  "I  think  we  shall  git  off  pretty 
well,  my  lad." 

The  hunter  was  right.  The  savages  made 
no  further  demonstration  during  the  night,  and 
at  sunrise  there  were  no  signs  of  them  visible. 
The  garrison  remained  in  the  fort  during  the 
day,  but  the  next  morning  a  party  was  sent 
out  to  follow  the  trail  of  the  enemy,  and  found 
that  they  had  fled  across  the  Ohio  into  their 
own  country.  The  danger  being  over,  the 
Grove  Creek  horsemen  bade  adieu  to  their 
friends,  and  returned  home. 


212  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

The  fort  had  been  gallantly  held.  The  sav 
ages  numbered  three  hundred  chosen  warriors, 
and  they  were  exasperated  by  their  failure  to 
take  Fort  Henry  at  Wheeling,  and  Rice's  Fort, 
on  Buffalo  Creek,  and  were  resolved  to  de 
stroy  the  Fish  Creek  settlement  at  all  hazards. 
Their  loss  was  never  known  accurately,  as 
they  carried  off  their  killed  and  wounded ;  but 
it  was  confidently  believed  to  be  not  less  than 
sixty,  of  whom  the  greater  number  were  killed. 
The  loss  of  the  settlers  was  insignificant.  Be 
sides  the  four  men  who  had  been  killed  at  the 
opening  of  the  siege,  only  one  of  their  number 
had  been  wounded.  The  two  wounded  men 
belonging  to  the  Grove  Creek  horsemen  were 
not  members  of  the  garrison,  and  they  came 
when  the  victory  was  practically  won.  The 
settlers  had  a  right  to  feel  proud,  for  the  stand 
they  had  made  had  been  in  defence  of  the 
liberties  of  America,  as  well  as  for  their  own 
immediate  protection.  The  attack  was  one  of 
a  series  inaugurated  and  carried  on  by  the 
British  Governor  Hamilton,  of  Detroit,  and  the 


THE    SIEGE.  213 

savages  had  been  supplied  with  arms  and  ma 
terials  of  war  by  the  government  of  Great 
Britain,  which  had  resolved  to  destroy  the 
young  Republic,  if  it  could  not  reduce  it  to 
submission. 


214  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 


CHAPTER    XL 

THE   CAPTURE. 

THE  morning  after  the  burning  of  the  cabins 
by  the  Indians,  John  went  home  to  breakfast, 
the  first  meal  the  family  had  eaten  since  the 
siege  began.  He  found  the  young  girl  that 
had  been  rescued  the  night  before  helping  his 
mother  about  her  household  duties,  and  as  she 
saw  him  enter,  she  came  forward  frankly,  and 
offered  him  her  hand.  She  was  a  fine  speci 
men  of  the  frontier  maiden,  and  there  was  not 
a  prettier  girl  along  the  whole  border.  She 
was  about  his  own  age ;  and  the  roses  on  her 
cheeks  would  have  extorted  the  envy  of  many 
a  city  belle.  John  took  her  offered  hand  bash 
fully,  and  his  color  deepened  as  she  thanked 
him  for  saving  her  from  the  Indians.  He  stam 
mered  out  something  about  being  very  glad  to 
serve  her,  and  his  confusion  was  increased  as 


THE   CAPTURE.  2 15 

he  saw  his  mother  glancing  at  him  with  a 
smile,  the  meaning  of  which  he  read  at  once. 
The  good  dame  saw  through  the  simple  boy  in 
an  instant,  and  she  was  not  altogether  sorry 
that  he  had  lost  his  heart  from  the  moment  he 
laid  eyes  on  the  pretty  stranger. 

The  maiden  said  her  name  was  Annie  Clarke, 
and  that  she  was  an  orphan.  She  had  been 
living  with  some  distant  relatives,  who  had  re 
cently  located  a  few  miles  back  of  the  Grove 
Creek  Fort.  They  had  not  thought  it  worth 
while  to  seek  refuge  in  the  fort ;  and  on  the  day 
before  the  attack  on  the  Fish  Creek  settlement, 
the  savages  had  made  a  descent  on  their  clea/- 
ing,  and  had  massacred  all  the  family  but  the 
young  girl.  They  had  brought  her  with  them, 
intending  to  carry  her  to  their  towns,  and  marry 
her  to  one  of  their  young  men.  Being  baffled 
in  all  their  attempts  to  take  the  Fish  Creek  Fort, 
they  had  sent  her  to  act  as  a  decoy,  hoping  to 
surprise  the  garrison  in  this  way ;  but  the  heroic 
girl  had  resolved  to  put  the  whites  on  their 
guard,  even  at  the  cost  of  her  own  life.  The 


2l6  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

result  had  not  been  in  accordance  with  her 
expectations.  She  said  she  had  no  friends  in 
the  world  now,  and  that  she  knew  not  what 
to  do. 

After  breakfast  that  morning,  Mrs.  Oxenford 
had  a  long  talk  with  the  captain  about  the  pretty 
stranger.  She  had  taken  a  decided  interest  in 
her,  and  she  was  anxious  to  keep  her  with  her, 
as  one  of  the  family.  She  mentioned  that  she 
thought  John  was  disposed  to  fall  in  love  with 
her.  She  was  glad  of  this,  as  she  wanted  him 
to  marry  as  soon  as  he  could  after  he  came 
of  age ;  and  if  he  fancied  this  girl,  she  (his 
mother)  would  have  an  opportunity  of  contrib 
uting  to  the  formation  of  the  character  of  her 
son's  wife.  She  had  a  dread  of  her  boy's 
marrying  a  stranger.  So  it  was  settled  that 
Annie  Clarke  should  remain  in  the  family  as 
one  of  them.  Nothing  was  to  be  said  about  the 
matrimonial  part  of  the  affair,  but  the  young 
people  were  to  be  left  to  take  their  own  course. 
Annie  was  well  pleased  with  the  offer  of  a 
home,  and  accepted  it  gratefully ;  and  as  for 


THE    CAPTURE. 

John,    he    was    delighted    with    the    arrange 
ment. 

Three  years  passed  away.  John  was  now  of 
age,  and  had  grown  up  into  a  tall,  fine-looking 
young  fellow.  Annie  had  fulfilled  her  early 
promise,  and  had  become  a  beautiful  woman, 
and  it  was  decided  that  she  and  John  should  be 
married  the  next  year.  The  settlers  had  re 
mained  in  the  fort  since  the  events  describeed  in 
the  last  chapter ;  for  although  nothing  of  such 
a  momentous  character  had  transpired  during 
the  interval,  the  Indians  had  shown  too  much 
activity  to  make  it  safe  for  any  one  to  live  out 
side  the  walls  of  the  fortification.  There  had 
been  neither  deaths  nor  removals  to  decrease 
the  population  of  the  settlement ;  but,  on  the 
contrary,  there  had  been  several  additions  to  the 
community  in  the  shape  of  three  or  four  plump 
pioneer  babies.  The  old  hunter,  Bill  Davis, 
had  abandoned  his  roving  life  to  a  great  extent, 
and  had  settled  down  at  the  fort.  He  said  he 
meant  to  wait  there  until  John  and  Annie  were 
married,  and  then  he  would  pass  the  rest  of  his 
days  with  them,  whereveV  they  might  go. 


2l8  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

It  was  exactly  three  years  from  the  day  of 
the  attack  on  the  fort,  and  was  now  the  middle 
of  September,  1780.  About  eight  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  a  heavy,  black  smoke  was  seen  rising 
in  the  direction  of  Grove  Creek.  It  was  evi 
dent  that  it  proceeded  from  some  extraordinary 
cause,  and  the  settlers  were  very  much  per 
plexed  about  it. 

Tm  afraid  the  fort  at  Grove  Creek  is  on 
fire,"  said  Captain  Oxenford  to  the  old  hunter. 

"So  am  I,  cap',"  replied  the  old  man.  "No 
ordinary  cabin  would  make  a  smoke  like  that." 

"  I  think  we  ought  to  send  out  and  see  what 
is  the  matter,"  said  the  captain.  "  You  know 
our  friends  there  came  promptly  to  our  assist 
ance  when  they  thought  we  were  in  dan- 
ger." 

"You  are  right,  cap',"  said  the  hunter.  "  I'll 
go  if  I  can  get  ten  men  to  go  with  me." 

"  I'll  go,"  said  John  and  Dan  in  a  breath. 
Several  others  professed  their  willingness  to 
join  the  party,  and  the  number  was  soon  made 
up.  They  left  the  fort  at  once,  well  armed, 


THE   CAPTURE.  2 19 

and  took  the  shortest  route  to  Grove  Creek. 
They  marched  rapidly,  in  Indian  file,  the  hunter 
leading  the  way.  They  had  passed  over  half 
the  distance  between  the  two  forts,  when  the 
hunter  suddenly  gave  the  command  to  halt. 

"Boys,"  said  he,  in  a  low  tone,  "I  can't  get 
rid  of  the  idea  that  thar's  Injuns  about.  Now,  it 
won't  do  for  us  to  run  right  into  'em  without 
knowing  it." 

"How  will  you  prevent  it?"  asked  one  of  the 
men. 

"Easy,"  replied  the  hunter.  "One  of  us 
must  go  ahead  a  little  distance,  and  if  thar's 
any  Injuns  about,  they'll  be  apt  to  fire  at  him 
first,  and  the  rest  of  us  can  get  out  of  the  way, 
or  be  ready  for  'em." 

"That's  all  very  good,  except  for  the  man 
that  goes  ahead,"  said  the  settler. 

"  I  intend  to  be  that  man,"  said  the  hunter, 
quietly. 

"  We'd  better  draw  straws  for  it,"  said  one  of 
the  men. 

"Certainly;  that  will  be  fair,"  was  the  gen 
eral  exclamation. 


220  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

"No,  boys,"  said  the  hunter,  firmly;  "I'm  in 
command  of  this  party,  and  I'll  expose  none  of 
you  to  the  danger  of  such  a  venture.  I'll  do 
the  reconnoitring  myself.  If  I'm  killed,  why, 
nobody  '11  miss  me.  You've  all  got  mothers, 
and  wives,  and  sisters  at  the  fort,  while  I've 
got  nobody  but  this  here  boy ;  "  and  he  laid 
his  hand  affectionately  on  John's  shoulder. 

"Thank  you,  Bill,"  said  John,  softly. 

"  Now,  boys,"  resumed  the  hunter,  "  I'll  go 
ahead,  and  do  you  follow  me  at  about  a  hundred 
yards'  distance.  Be  ready  for  action  at  a  sec 
ond's  warning." 

The  men  caught  their  rifles  at  a  "  ready,"  and 
they  set  off  again,  with  the  hunter  about  a  hun 
dred  yards  in  front.  They  passed  over  another 
mile  of  the  way  without  speaking,  when  sud 
denly  the  hunter  paused,  and  waited  for  them 
to  come  up  with  him. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  asked  John. 

"  Look  yonder,"  said  the  old  man,  pointing 
along  the  pathway  they  were  travelling  ;  "  don't 
you  see  them  Injun  trinkets?  Well,  sure  as 


THE    CAPTURE.  221 

we  live,  the  red-bellies  themselves  ain't  far 
away." 

The  path  a  few  yards  in  advance  of  them 
was  strewn  with  Indian  trinkets  and  beads, 
and  the  men  felt  very  confident  that  the  hunter 
was  right  in  his  suspicions  of  the  proximity  of 
the  savages. 

"What  shall  we  do?"  asked  one  of  the  men. 

"We'll  quit  this  path,  and  cut  around  through 
the  woods,"  said  the  hunter.  "It  isn't  safe  to 
keep  this  road  any  longer ;  so  we'll  wheel 
about  at  once." 

They  were  standing  in  a  narrow  bridle-path, 
with  the  thick  woods  on  each  side  of  them. 
As  the  hunter  spoke,  a  heavy  volley  was 
poured  into  them  from  each  side  of  the  road. 
Two  of  them  fell  dead,  and  a  third  \vas  slight 
ly  wounded. 

"  Take  to  the  trees,  and  run  for  it,  boys," 
shouted  the  hunter.  "  They've  got  to  load 
agin." 

The  survivors  now  set  off  at  a  rapid  pace 
for  the  fort,  with  the  savages  in  hot  pursuit. 


222  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

There  were  about  twenty  Indians  in  the  at 
tacking  party,  and  this  number  was  reduced 
by  three  or  four,  who  fell  beneath  the  unerring 
rifles  of  the  whites  in  the  running  fight  which 
ensued,  and  which  was  continued  for  several 
miles.  At  length  there  was  a  sharp  crack  of 
a  rifle  immediately  behind  John  Oxenford,  and 
the  young  man  felt  something  sting  the  calf 
of  his  leg;  and  the  next  instant  he  sank  to 
the  ground,  utterly  unable  to  run  another  step. 
He  knew  he  had  been  wounded,  and  he  ex 
pected  to  be  killed  the  next  moment.  To  his 
utter  astonishment,  he  saw  Dan  Whittaker 
stop  by  his  side.  The  savages  were  close  at 
hand,  and  he  called  to  Dan  to  make  his  es 
cape. 

"  I'll  stay  here  with  you,  John,"  said  the 
brave  fellow,  quietly.  "  I  said  I'd  stick  by  you 
through  thick  and  thin,  and  I'll  do  it." 

"But,  Dan,"  said  John,  "they'll  kill  you, 
and  you  can  do  me  no  good  by  staying 
here." 

"  A  man  can't  die  but  once,"  said  Dan,  cool- 


THE    CAPTURE.  223 

ly ;  w  and  if  that's  got  to  be  your  fate,  I'll  share 
it  with  you." 

The  next  instant  the  savages  were  upon 
them.  One  of  the  red  warriors  raised  his 
hatchet  aloft  to  crush  John's  skull;  but  Dan 
was  too  quick  for  him,  and  springing  before 
the  body  of  his  friend,  he  gave  the  savage  a 
blow  between  the  eyes  with  his  fist,  that  sent 
him  reeling  to  the  ground.  A  shout  of  laugh 
ter  from  the  Indians,  who  now  came  running 
up,  greeted  this  exploit,  and  the  one  who 
seemed  to  be  the  leader  of  the  party  called 
out  to  his  men  not  to  kill  the  prisoners.  They 
were  seized,  however,  and  bound  securely. 
One  of  the  Indians  then  examined  John's 
wound  in  the  leg,  and  after  chewing  up  some 
leaves  which  he  took  from  his  belt,  bound 
them  tightly  around  the  hurt.  The  pursuit  of 
the  other  whites  was  now  abandoned,  and  the 
Indians  told  the  young  men  by  signs  that  they 
must  go  with  them.  This  the  captives  pre 
pared  to  do,  and  the  party  set  off  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  river.  It  was  too  high  to  be  forded, 


224  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

but  the  savages  had  two  large  canoes  concealed 
on  the  Virginia  shore,  and  by  means  of  these 
they  were  soon  on  their  own  soil  again.  The 
canoes  were  drawn  up  and  concealed  in  the 
woods,  and  the  band  set  off  for  their  towns 
in  the  north-western  part  of  Ohio.  They 
camped  about  dark,  and  their  prisoners  were 
bound  hand  and  foot,  to  keep  them  from  es 
caping.  The  cords  were  tied  so  tight  as  to 
be  painful,  and  the  young  men  could  scarcely 
sleep  at  all.  They  were  thankful  when  the 
morning  came,  and  the  march  was  resumed. 
John's  leg  was  very  painful,  but  the  savages 
forced  him  to  keep  up  with  them,  in  spite  of 
this.  Dan  walked  by  him  all  the  way,  often 
supporting  him,  and  sometimes  almost  carry 
ing  him.  He  was  always  cheerful,  and  in 
clined  to  take  a  hopeful  view  of  matters,  and 
his  devotion  to  his  wounded  friend,  for  whose 
sake  he  had  suffered  himself  to  be  captured, 
was  beautiful  to  behold. 

On  the  morning  of  the  fifth  day  the  savages 
halted   in   about  two  hours  after  breaking  up 


THE    CAPTURE.  225 

their  camp  of  the  previous  night.  They 
painted  themselves  hideously,  and  then,  ap 
proaching  their  prisoners,  smeared  the  face  of 
each  with  a  black  substance.  John's  heart 
sank  within  him  at  this,  for  he  knew  that  it 
was  a  sign  that  they  were. doomed  to  death, 
and  his  knowledge  of  the  Indian  customs  told 
him  what  kind  of  death  they  were  appointed 
to  die.  The  savage  who  painted  him  must 
have  read  this  in  the  young  man's  face,  for 
he  burst  into  a  brutal  laugh  as  he  smeared 
the  dye  over  the  skin.  John  looked  at  Dan  in 
silence.  The  young  man's  face  was  pale,  but 
tranquil,  and  he  met  John's  look  with  a  smile. 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked. 

"I  don't  mind  it  for  myself,  Dan,"  said  John, 
in  a  trembling  voice,  "but  I  can't  bear  to  think 
that  you  should  be  here  on  my  account." 

"Well,  then,  don't  think  of  it,"  said  Dan. 
"To  tell  the  truth,  John,  I  don't  care  to  live 
after  you  are  gone.  We've  been  together  so 
long  that  to  lose  you  would  be  like  giving  up 
a  part  of  myself." 

15 


226  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

The  savages  now  resumed  their  walk,  and 
the  two  friends  were  ordered  to  move  on. 

About  noon  the  Indians  gave  two  loud 
whoops  of  a  peculiar  character,  which  were 
meant  to  let  all  their  people  within  hearing 
know  that  they  had  returned  with  t\vo  prison 
ers.  The  whoops  were  repeated  twice,  at  inter 
vals  of  half  an  hour,  and,  the  third  time,  were 
answered  some  distance  in  advance.  Then 
was  heard  a  furious  barking  of  dogs,  and  in 
a  short  time  a  bend  in  the  road  brought  them 
in  sight  of  an  Indian  village  of  some  fifteen 
or  twenty  wigwams,  or  lodges.  The  savage 
that  had  painted  the  prisoners  now  turned  to 
them,  and  pointed  exultantly  to  their  paint  and 
then  to  the  lodges,  as  much  as  to  say  they 
had  reached  the  place  where  they  were  to 
die. 


THE    TORTURE.  227 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    TORTURE. 

THE  town  to  which  the  two  friends  were 
carried  by  their  captors  belonged  to  a  tribe 
of  Mingo  Indians,  and  was  situated  about  half 
way  between  Wheeling  and  Lake  Erie.  It 
consisted  of  about  fifteen  or  twenty  huts,  or 
lodges,  and  contained  a  population  of  about 
one  hundred  souls,  of  whom  thirty  were  war 
riors.  It  was  one  of  the  remnants  of  that  once 
powerful  tribe  which  has  been  immortalized 
by  the  eloquence  of  Logan.  The  place  was 
dirty  and  squalid-looking,  and  it  was  evident 
that  the  tribe  was  very  poor. 

The  warriors  were  received  at  the  entrance 
of  the  town  by  those  who  had  remained  at 
home,  and  by  their  women  and  children.  The 
latter  at  once  commenced  to  pelt  the  captives 
with  mud  and  stones,  and  one  old  squaw  struck 


228  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

Dan  in  the  face  with  a  stick.  Unable  to  resist 
the  impulse,  Dan  gave  her  a  box  on  the  ear 
with  his  open  hand,  and  sent  her  reeling  from 
him.  He  expected  to  be  killed  or  beaten  for 
his  audacity,  but  the  savages  burst  into  a  laugh 
at  the  discomfiture  of  the  squaw,  and  ordered 
her  to  let  the  prisoners  alone.  After  this,  John 
and  Dan  were  taken  to  one  of  the  lodges,  and 
after  being  tied  hand  and  foot,  were  forced  to 
lie  down  upon  the  ground,  and  a  guard  was 
placed  at  the  entrance  of  the  hut.  About 
nightfall  they  were  given  some  coarse,  boiled 
hominy,  and,  their  hands  were  released  until 
they  had  finished  their  meal.  Then  they  were 
tied  again,  and  forced  to  lie  down  on  the  floor 
of  the  hut.  The  night,  which  was  a  sleepless 
one  to  them,  was  passed  by  their  captors  in 
drinking  and  carousing,  and  they  could  hear 
their  savage  laughter  until  near  daybreak, 
after  which  everything  grew  quiet. 

"What  do  you  think  they  will  do  with  us, 
John?"  asked  Dan,  who  had  been  lying  very 
still. 


THE   TORTURE. 

"They  will  burn  us,  without  doubt,"  replied 
his  companion.  "We  shall  know  to-morrow, 
however." 

The  next  day  at  noon  they  were  taken  from 
their  place  of  confinement,  and  carried  into 
the  open  square  of  the  town.  A  large  fire 
was  built  in  the  centre  of  the  space,  and  around 
it  the  oldest  warriors  were  seated,  smoking. 
The  prisoners  were  placed  before  this  group, 
and  the  remainder  of  the  tribe  stood  by  in 
silence  to  hear  the  result  of  the  deliberations. 
One  of  the  smokers  arose,  and,  removing  his 
pipe,  commenced  a  long  address,  in  the  course 
of  which  he  became  very  much  excited,  and 
pointed  frequently  and  angrily  to  the  captives, 
who  stood  by,  unable  to  comprehend  his  lan 
guage,  but  clearly  understanding  that  he  was 
urging  his  companions  to  put  them  to  death. 

At  length  the  man  sat  down,  and  there  was 
a  profound  silence.  No  one  raised  his  voice 
for  mercy  to  the  captives.  In  a  few  mo 
ments  the  chief,  who  sat  at  the  head  of  the 
smokers,  took  a  large  knife,  and  cut  a  notch 


23O  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

on  the  side  of  his  club.  The  knife  and  club 
were  then  passed  around  the  circle  of  smokers, 
each  of  whom  cut  a  notch  in  the  wood.  This 
was  the  Indian  method  of  deciding  the  fate  of 
the  captives,  for  each  notch  was  a  vote  in 
favor  of  their  death.  Had  there  been  any 
present  who  desired  to  "be  merciful,  he  would 
have  passed  the  club  to  his  neighbor  without 
cutting  it.  After  the  club  had  gone  around 
the  circle,  it  was  handed  back  to  the  chief, 
who  counted  the  notches,  and  then  rose  and 
announced  the  decision  of  the  council.  The 
prisoners  were  doomed  to  die  at  the  stake  at 
sunrise  the  next  day. 

One  of  the  old  warriors,  who  could  speak  a 
little  English,  then  informed  the  prisoners  of 
their  sentence.  He  told  them  that  they  would 
now  have  to  run  the  gantlet  of  the  warriors 
of  the  tribe,  and  that,  although  the  council  had 
condemned  them  to  death,  they  would  be  spared 
upon  condition  of  their  joining  the  tribe,  if  they 
could  succeed  in  reaching  the  end  of  their  terri 
ble  journey  without  being  knocked  down  by 
the  clubs  of  the  warriors. 


THE    TORTURE.  231 

The  savages  were  then  ranged  in  two  rows, 
facing  each  other,  about  three  or  four  feet  apart, 
and  each  one  was  armed  with  a  stout  club. 
The  prisoners  were  then  placed  at  one  end  of 
the  rows,  and  ordered  to  run  at  full  speed  to 
the  lower  end  of  the  line,  and  then  return. 
Dan  Whittaker  was  the  first  to  start,  and  for  a 
while  he  was  successful  in  dodging  the  blows 
which  were  aimed  at  him ;  but  at  length  a 
large  Indian  struck  him  fairly  over  the  head, 
and  laid  him  bleeding  upon  the  ground.  John 
was  not  more  fortunate.  His  wound  prevented 
him  from  running,  and  he  had  gone  but  a  few 
steps  when  he  was  knocked  senseless.  The 
savages  then  dragged  the  poor  fellows  back  to 
the  lodge  in  which  they  had  spent  the  previous 
night,  and  left  them  there  with  a  guard,  to  re 
cover  their  consciousness  as  best  they  could. 

Dan  was  the  first  to  recover.  He  raised 
himself  up,  and,  seeing  John  still  insensible, 
crawled  over  to  him,  and,  supporting  his  head 
in  his  lap,  tried  to  restore  him  to  consciousness. 
At  last  he  was  successful.  As  John  opened 


232  PLANTING    THE   WILDERNESS. 

his  eyes,  and  saw  his  faithful  friend  bending 
over  him,  he  put  up  his  arms,  and,  clasping 
him  around  the  neck,  drew  him  down  to  him. 

"God  bless  you,  Dan,"  he  whispered.  "I 
think  we  can  die  more  bravely  together  than 
either  of  us  could  apart." 

"I  know  it,  John,"  said  Dan. 

They  spent  the  rest  of  the  day  and  the  night 
in  talking  of  home  and  those  they  loved.  This 
seemed  to  comfort  them,  although  the  thought 
that  they  would  never  see  home  or  friends 
again  was  bitter  enough  to  them.  Both  of 
them  had  been  raised  by  Christian  parents,  and 
they  had  lived  the  few  years  of  their  lives  as 
becomes  those  who  "profess  the  faith  of  Christ 
crucified  ; "  and  in  these  dark  hours  they  found 
this  faith  as  weet  solace  and  a  powerful  sup 
port.  As  the  night  waned  and  the  day  dawned, 
they  sang  the  hymns  they  had  sung  at  home, 
until  the  lodge  was  filled  with  the  melody,  and 
even  the  savages,  roused  from  their  slumbers, 
listened  with  awe  to  what  they  thought  the 
death-song  of  the  pale-faces. 


THE   TORTURE.  233 

At  sunrise  the  town  was  astir,  and  soon 
after,  the  Indians  came  to  conduct  their  prison 
ers  to  the  place  of  torture.  The  place  selected 
for  the  occasion  was  the  spot  where  the  coun 
cil  had  been  held  and  the  sentence  passed  on 
the  previous  day.  Two  stout  posts  had  been 
driven  into  the  ground,  about  three  feet  apart, 
and  around  them  a  quantity  of  fagots  had 
been  piled  up.  The  prisoners  were  halted  at 
the  stakes,  and  stripped  to  the  skin.  Their 
hands  were  then  tied  behind  them,  and  they 
were  led  to  the  posts,  and  fastened  there  by 
stout  thongs  of  untanned  buffalo  hide.  Even 
the  savages  seemed  touched  by  the  devotion 
of  the  two  friends  to  each  other,  for  they  did 
not  offer  to  separate  them,  as  they  embraced 
each  other  for  the  last  time,  but  patiently 
waited  till  their  parting  was  ended. 

"  Remember,  Dan,"  said  John,  as  they  were 
bound  to  the  posts,  "we  must  die  like  men. 
Not  a  word,  not  a  groan,  must  show  these 
monsters  how  we  are  suffering.  The  Lord 
will  sustain  us,  and  we  shall  meet  again  in 


234  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

another  and  a  better  world,  never  to  part 
there." 

"  Never  to  part  there,  never  to  part,"  re 
peated  Dan.  The  savages  now  formed  a  ring 
around  the  stakes,  and  commenced  to  dance 
around  them,  keeping  time  to  a  wild,  piercing 
chant.  This  was  continued  for  a  quarter  of 
an  hour,  when  they  fell  back,  and  half  a  dozen 
warriors  advanced,  with  small  bows  and  a 
number  of  fine  needles,  or  arrows,  of  fat  pine, 
which  they  commenced  to  shoot  into  the  naked 
bodies  of  their  victims.  These  arrows  caused 
painful  wounds  wherever  they  struck,  and 
started  the  blood  in  little,  fine  streams.  After 
shooting  about  a  dozen  of  these  arrows  into 
each  of  the  victims,  the  men  fell  back,  and 
an  old  squaw  advanced  with  a  burning  torch, 
to  fire  the  pile  of  fagots  and  light  the  pine 
arrows  which  were  sticking  in  the  quivering 
flesh  of  the  young  men. 

The  town  was  built  just  on  the  edge  of  the 
woods,  and  the  stakes  were  not  more  than  fifty 
or  sixty  yards  from  the  trees.  Every  member 


THE    TORTURE.  235 

of  the  tribe  had  assembled  to  witness  the  tor 
ture,  and  the  red-skins  were  collected  in  a 
close  knot  in  front  of  the  stakes,  in  order  to 
obtain  a  view  of  the  prisoners'  faces,  and  were 
standing  with  their  backs  to  the  woods.  As 
the  old  woman  advanced  towards  the  pile,  a 
sheet  of  flame  and  smoke,  accompanied  by  a 
terrific  crash,  burst  from  the  woods  in  the  rear 
of  the  savages,  and  a  storm  of  bullets  swept 
through  their  midst,  cutting  down  a  number  of 
warriors  and  women  and  children.  The  next 
moment  a  large  force  of  hunters  dashed  out 
of  the  forest  with  a  yell,  and  rushed  upon  the 
savages  with  the  tomahawk.  The  surprise  \vas 
complete.  The  Indians  were  utterly  unpre 
pared  for  and  unsuspicious  of  such  an  attack ; 
and,  though  they  made  a  gallant  resistance, 
they  were  put  to  flight,  with  the  loss  of  half 
their  tribe.  The  whites  were  merciless,  and 
they  spared  neither  age  nor  sex.  They  had 
come  out  for  the  purpose  of  avenging  the  in 
juries  they  had  suffered,  and  they  were  resolved 
to  exterminate  the  savages. 


236  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

True  to  her  instincts,  the  squaw  had  tried 
to  fire  the  pile  in  spite  of  the  attack ;  but  a 
blow  from  the  hatchet  of  one  of  the  whites 
deprived  her  of  life  and  the  power  of  doing 
so.  The  captives  were  instantly  released,  the 
arrows  were  drawn  from  their  bodies,  and  their 
wounds  were  dressed  by  their  rescuers  as  ten 
derly  and  carefully  as  if  the  battle  was  not 
raging  around  them.  The  clothing  of  which 
they  had  been  stripped  was  lying  on  the  ground 
near  the  stakes,  and  they  were  soon  clad  in 
their  own  garments  again.  In  answer  to  their 
questions,  the  men  who  had  come  to  their  as 
sistance  told  them  that  the  expedition  consisted 
of  one  hundred  men.  It  had  been  organized 
at  Wheeling,  under  the  command  of  Major 
Samuel  McCulloch,  the  famous  Indian-fighter. 
It  had  been  intended  for  service  in  another 
quarter;  but  the  old  hunter,  Bill  Davis,  had 
come  in  haste  to  Fort  Henry,  and  begged 
Major  McCulloch  to  help  him  to  rescue  "his 
boys,''  as  he  called  John  and  Dan.  McCulloch 
had  generously  consented  to  do  this,  and  by 


THE   TORTURE.  237 

a  forced  march  of  two  days  and  nights 
had  reached  the  town  just  in  time  to  save 
them. 

In  half  an  hour  the  savages  were  routed 
with  terrible  slaughter,  and  the  battle  was  over. 
Major  McCulloch  now  approached  the  young 
men,  who  were  resting  on  the  ground  stiff  and 
sore  from  their  wounds  and  bruises.  They 
rose  as  he  came  up  to  them,  and,  grasping 
both  his  hands,  thanked  him  warmly  for  their 
rescue. 

"You  don't  owe  me  anything,"  he  said.  "I 
am  fully  repaid  for  my  part  of  the  trouble  by 
seeing  you  safe.  Your  thanks  are  due  to  your 
friend  Davis,  for  he  fairly  dragged  us  here. 
Where  is  he?  I  haven't  seen  him  since  the 
fight  began." 

One  of  the  men  approached,  and,  touching 
John  on  the  shoulder,  said,  — 

"  Bill  Davis  has  been  badly  wounded,  and 
wants  to  see  you." 

Leaning  on  Dan's  arm,  John  limped  after  the 
man,  and  Major  McCulloch,  who  was  an  old 


238  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

friend  of  the  hunter,  followed  anxiously.     They 

• 

found  the  old  man  lying  on  the  ground  just  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  village.  He  had  been  shot 
through  the  breast  at  the  opening  of  the  fight, 
and  was  now  very  faint  from  loss  of  blood. 
He  was  lying  with  his  eyes  closed,  and  his 
breathing  was  labored  and  painful.  John 
sank  down  by  him,  and,  clasping  his  hand 
in  both  of  his,  called  his  name  in  a  tone  of 
sharp  pain.  The  hunter  opened  his  eyes, 
with  a  smile,  at  the  sound  of  "  his  boy's " 
voice. 

"  So  you've  come,  lad,"  he  said,  faintly, 
"  and  we  got  here  in  time  to  save  you." 

"Yes,  Bill,"  said  John,  tearfully;  "but  at 
what  a  price!  Are  you  hurt  much?" 

"I'm  done  for  this  time,"  said  the  hunter; 
"but  I'm  satisfied,  so  long  as  you  are  safe.  Let 
me  rest  my  head  in  your  lap,  lad,  and  I'll  die 
easier  then." 

John  lifted  the  old  man's  head  into  his  lap, 
and  his  tears  fell  fast  upon  the  worn,  weather- 
beaten  face.  The  men  gathered  around  in 


THE    TORTURE.  239 

silence,  leaning  on  their  rifles,  and  gazing  with 
tender  pity  upon  the  scene. 

"I  wish  I  could  die  for  you,  Bill,"  John 
sobbed,  as  he  stroked  back  the  old  man's  hair, 
tenderly. 

"  It's  better  as  it  is,  lad,"  said  the  hunter, 
faintly.  "  I'm  an  old  fellow,  and  I've  seen  my 
day  ;  so  it  doesn't  much  matter  about  me.  You 
are  young  and  vigorous,  and  you'll  live  to  see 
the  country  peaceful  and  settled  yet.  But,  lad, 
when  you  and  Annie  are  married,  and  your  lit 
tle  ones  are  playing  at  your  knees,  I  want  you 
to  teach  them  the  name  of  the  poor  old  hunter 
that  loved  you  so  much  ;  and  if  you  would  call 
one  of  them  by  my  name,  I  think  I  shall  know 
it,  and  be  happier  in  that  world  where  I  am 
going ;  for  I  couldn't  bear  to  die,  if  I  thought 
you  would  forget  me/' 

"I  shall  never  forget  you,  Bill  —  never,"  said 
the  young  man,  weeping.  "None  of  my  blood 
will  ever  cease  to  remember  you." 

"I  know  it,"  said  the  hunter,  "and  it  is 
that  that  makes  me  willing  to  die ;  for  if  you 


240  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

had  been  my  own  flesh  and  blood,  I  couldn't 
have  loved  you  more.  Where's  Dan?"  he 
asked. 

"Here  I  am,  Bill,"  said  Dan,  controlling  his 
emotion,  and  taking  the  old  man's  hand. 

"Dan  Whittaker,"  said  the  old  man,  "I  have 
always  loved  you,  too,  because  you  loved  John  ; 
but  not  like  I  loved  him,  Dan  —  not  like  I  loved 
him ;  and  now  I'm  going  to  leave  him  to  you. 
You  will  watch  over  him,  Dan,  and  be  to  him 
all  that  I  meant  to  have  been,  had  I  been 
spared.  Will  you  promise  me  that?" 

"I  will,  and,  with  God's  help,  I  will  keep 
my  promise,"  said  Dan. 

"  That's  right,"  murmured  the  hunter,  faintly. 
"  With  God's  help ;  you  can  do  nothing  without 
it.  He  has  helped  me  many  a  time,  and  I'm 
trusting  to  his  mercy  now.  I've  tried  to  live  a 
correct  life,  though  I  couldn't  help  cussin'  when 
I  got  mad.  I  never  injured  any  one,  and  I 
ain't  afeard  to  die.  Only  don't  let  the  Injuns 
git  my  har.  Bury  me  in  the  thick  woods,  whar 
they  won't  find  me ;  for  I  couldn't  rest  easy  with 


THE    TORTURE.  24! 

my  sculp  a-swingin'  to  a  red-skin's  belt.  Prom 
ise  me  that." 

"  I  do  promise,"  said  John. 

The  hunter  lay  still  and  silent  for  a  moment, 
and  his  face  commenced  to  take  a  grayish  hue. 
A  tremor  passed  through  his  frame,  and  he 
whispered  faintly,  — 

"John,  lad,  I'm  going.  Will  you  pray  with 
me  —  the  Lord's  prayer,  lad?  You  say  it,  and 
I'll  repeat  after  you,  as  I  used  to  do  at 
my  mother's  knee  when  I  was  an  innocent 
child." 

John's  voice  was  choked  with  sobs,  and  it 
was  only  by  an  effort  that  he  faltered  out  the 
blessed  wrords. 

"Our  Father,"  he  began. 

"  Our  Father,"  repeated  the  hunter,  faintly, 
and  with  difficulty. 

"Which  art  —  " 

"  Which  art  —  "  the  voice  wavering  and 
sinking  to  a  mere  whisper. 

"In  heaven  —  " 

*  In  heaven,"  whispered  the  old  man,  a 
16 


242  PLANTING    THE   WILDERNESS. 

smile,  so  sweet  that  it  thrilled  those  who  gazed 
upon  it,  stealing  over  his  dark  face.  "In 
heaven,"  he  whispered  again  —  "in  heaven;" 
and  the  voice  died  away  into  silence  —  a 
blessed  silence,  thank  God ;  for  the  old  hunter 
was  in  heaven  with  his  "Father." 

They  carried  the  hunter  with  them  a  day's 
journey  towards  Wheeling,  and  buried  him  in 
the  thick  woods,  and  concealed  his  grave  so 
that  neither  beast  nor  savage  would  ever  find 
it.  The  Indian  has  passed  away,  the  forest 
has  been  hewn  down,  and  towns  v£nd  cities 
have  sprung  up  around  that  spot  since  then ; 
but  a  truer,  nobler  heart  than  that  of  the  old 
hunter  has  never  throbbed  beneath  the  blue 
skies  of  the  west. 

John  and  Dan  were  very  sad  during  the 
march  homeward ;  for,  in  spite  of  their  joy  at 
their  own  rescue,  the  death  of  their  old  friend 
wrung  their  hearts  with  the  deepest  grief  they 
had  ever  known.  Major  McCulloch  and  his 
men  respected  their  sorrow,  and  left  them  al 
most  to  themselves.  Upon  reaching  Fort  Hen- 


THE    TORTURE.  243 

ry,  they  managed  to  get  word  of  their  safety  to 
their  friends  at  Fish  Creek;  but  they  staid  at 
Wheeling  till  John's  leg  was  well  enough  to 
enable  him  to  continue  the  journey  home  on 
horseback. 


244  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
JOHN'S  WEDDING. 

WHEN  John  and  Dan  returned  to  Fish  Creek, 
they  met  with  a  welcome  that  more  than  re 
paid  them  for  the  sufferings  they  had  expe 
rienced.  It  was  some  time  before  the  wound 
in  John's  leg  healed  entirely,  for  it  had  been 
very  much  aggravated  by  his  being  compelled 
to  accompany  the  Indians,  and  make  the  march 
with  his  rescuers  on  foot,  so  that  the  winter  was 
far  advanced  before  he  abandoned  his  character 
of  invalid.  To  tell  the  truth,  he  found  it  very 
pleasant  to  be  nursed  by  Annie,  for  his  mother 
had  quietly  resigned  that  task  to  her ;  and  it 
was  not  without  regret  that  he  found  himself 
entitled  no  longer  to  a  sick  man's  privileges.  He 
was  impatient  for  the  spring  to  come ;  for  on 
the  first  day  of  May  he  was  to  make  Annie 
Clarke  his  wife. 


JOHN'S  WEDDING.  245 

People  married  very  young  in  those  days ; 
and  the  old  proverb,  "  Whom  we  first  love  we 
seldom  marry,"  would  not  have  applied  to  the 
frontier;  for,  as  a  general  rule,  the  pioneers 
married  so  young  that  they  did  not  have  time 
to  find  a  second  love.  It  cost  little  or  nothing 
to  take  a  wife.  Any  man  who  could  build  a 
cabin,  and  clear  up  and  work  a  few  acres  of 
land,  was  in  a  position  to  marry ;  for  the  wo 
men  of  those  days  were  not  afraid  of  poverty 
and  toil.  » 

From  the  first,  it  was  determined  that  the 
wedding  (the  first  that  had  ever  been  projected 
in  the  settlement)  should  be  a  grand  affair. 
One  of  the  cabins  in  the  fort  had  been  assigned 
to  the  young  couple,  and,  for  several  weeks  pre 
vious  to  the  appointed  day,  the  women  were 
busy  in  arranging  it  for  them.  John  and  Dan 
worked,  too,  with  a  will  (for  the  former  had 
not  forgotten  his  boyish  ingenuity),  in  making 
the  furniture  and  such  like  little  knick-knacks  as 
they  could  think  of;  so  that,  when  everything 
was  finished,  the  "establishment"  of  the  young 


246       PLANTING  THE  WILDERNESS. 

couple  was  the  admiration  of  the  entire  com 
munity.  It  was  all  very  rough  and  plain,  to 
be  sure ;  but,  then,  dear  reader,  those  for 
whom  it  was  designed  were  satisfied  with  it. 
Some  of  you,  no  doubt,  look  forward,  and  very 
properly,  too,  to  beginning  life,  when  you 
marry,  in  a  handsome  "brick"  or  "brown 
stone,"  "with  all  the  modern  conveniences," 
and  a  full  assortment  of  tasteful  household  fur 
niture.  God  grant  that  your  hopes  may  be 
realized ;  but  I  doubt  if,  after  all,  you  will  be 
any  happier  or  better  satisfied  than  were  these 
young  people  with  their  log  cabin,  and  rough 
pine  and  oak  household  goods.  Invitations 
were  sent  to  the  various  settlements  for  twenty 
miles  around :  and  it  was  understood  that  every 
body  who  could  come  would  do  so,  whether 
they  were  acquainted  with  the  bride  and  groom 
or  not.  There  was  very  little  ceremony  on  the 
border,  and  people  had  but  little  use  for  formal 
introductions. 

On  the  day  before  the  wedding,  John  Oxen- 
ford  went  to  Grove  Creek,  accompanied  by  Dan 


JOHN'S  WEDDING.  247 

Whittaker  and  Tom  Oxenford,  to  bring  the 
parson  down  to  Fish  Creek.  They  were  to 
return  with  the  company  from  Grove  Creek  the 
next  day,  and  the  marriage  was  to  be  celebrated 
at  high  noon. 

On  the  morning  of  the  first  of  May,  1781, 
a  goodly  company  left  Grove  Creek  to  attend 
the  wedding,  or  frolic  —  for  at  that  period  the 
terms  were  synonymous.  You  would  have 
stared,  could  you  have  seen  them,  dear  reader. 
The  men  were  dressed  in  shoe  packs,*  mocca- 
sons,  leather  breeches,  leggings,  and  linsey  hunt 
ing-shirts.  Each  man  carried  his  hunting- 
knife  at  his  belt,  his  powder-horn  and  shot- 
pouch  at  his  side,  and  his  rifle  was  slung  across 
his  shoulder.  The  ladies  were  dressed  in  linsey 
petticoats,  and  linsey  or  linen  bed-gowns,  coarse 
shoes,  stockings,  and  cotton  handkerchiefs.  If 
they  wore  gloves,  the  material  used  was  a 
coarse  buck-skin.  Of  jewelry  there  was  none, 
unless,  perhaps,  some  one  might  have  been 
so  fortunate  as  to  be  the  possessor  of  some  old 

*  A  leather  shoe,  without  a  sole,  made  like  a  moccason. 


248  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

family  relic  or  heirloom,  at  which  their  grand 
daughters  of  to-day  would  be  very  apt  to  turn 
up  their  noses.  The  horses  were  caparisoned 
with  bridles  of  rough  tanned  leather,  old  sad 
dles  that  had  been  mended  until  very  little  of 
the  original  article  was  left,  and  girths  which 
were  as  frequently  a  piece  of  rope  as  a  leathern 
strap.  Yet  these  good  people  thought  all  this 
very  fine,  and  the}r  were  as  merry  and  free  from 
care  as  it  is  possible  to  imagine.  The  only 
thing  they  feared  was  an  attack  from  the  In 
dians  ;  but  even  this  was  worth  risking  for  the 
fun  that  was  in  store  for  them. 

The  party  left  the  fort  with  a  cheer,  and  set 
off  in  single  file  for  Fish  Creek.  John,  of 
course,  was  the  observed  of  all,  and  was  the 
object  of  many  a  good-natured,  but  homely, 
jest.  He  tried  very  hard  to  maintain  his  grav 
ity,  but  found  it  impossible  to  do  so ;  and  at  last, 
abandoning  the  attempt,  he  became  as  merry  as 
though  he  had  not  been  going  to  his  own  wed 
ding.  The  forest  rang  with  the  laughter  of  the 
joyous  party ;  and  as  some  of  the  girls  looked 


JOHN'S  WEDDING.  249 

upon  the  handsome  face  and  manly  figure  of 
the  bridegroom  elect,  they  could  not  help  wish 
ing  to  themselves  that  they  were  to  stand  in 
Annie  Clarke's  place. 

The  fort  at  Fish  Creek  was  reached  by 
eleven  o'clock,  and  the  guests  were  at  once 
admitted,  and  their  horses  provided  for.  A 
number  of  persons  of  both  sexes  had  already 
arrived  from  other  parts  of  the  country,  and  one 
or  two  young  people  had  even  come  from  as  far 
as  Wheeling.  There  was  no  cabin  in  the  fort 
large  enough  to  hold  the  company,  and  the  big 
storehouse  had  been  fitted  up  for  the  occasion. 
This  had  an  earthen  floor ;  but  it  was  con 
sidered  quite  as  good  for  dancing  as  one  of 
plank  would  have  been. 

At  twelve  o'clock  the  parson  took  his  station 
in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  and  the  company 
grouped  about  him  to  witness  the  ceremony. 
The  next  moment,  Captain  Oxenford  and  his 
wife  came  in,  followed  by  the  bride  and  groom 
elect.  Annie  was  dressed  in  her  best  home 
spun  petticoat,  which  came  to  her  ankles,  and 


250  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

a  bodice  of  old  linen  that  Mrs.  Oxenford  had 
brought  with  her  from  the  east.  Her  plump, 
pretty  ankles  were  encased  in  yarn  stockings 
of  the  brightest  red,  and  her  foot,  which  was 
the  perfection  of  beauty,  was  fitted  into  a  pair 
of  Indian  moccasons.  Her  hair  was  braided 
tastefully  and  simply,  and  in  it  she  wore  a 
spray  of  wild  violets.  John  was  dressed  in  his 
best  hunting-shirt,  his  buck-skin  breeches,  lin- 
sey  leggings,  and  a  pair  of  Indian  moccasons, 
which  he  had  secured  upon  the  occasion  re 
ferred  to  in  the  last  chapter.  "A  handsomer 
couple  never  stood  before  a  parson,"  was  the 
unanimous  comment  of  those  present.  Every 
one  in  the  settlement  loved  them,  and  all  re 
joiced  in  their  happiness.  In  a  few  minutes 
the  parson  had  "tied  the  knot,"  and  had  made 
John  Oxenford  and  Annie  Clarke  man  and 
wife.  „  Then  the  fort  rang  with  the  cheers  of 
the  men,  the  women  waved  their  handker 
chiefs,  and  all  crowded  around  the  happy  pair 
to  offer  their  congratulations,  and  kiss  the 
bride. 


JOHNS   WEDDING.  251 

The  marriage  over,  the  women  repaired  to 
the  cabin  of  Captain  Oxenford  to  get  ready 
the  dinner  which  had  been  provided,  and  the 
men  set  the  tables,  which  had  been  loaned  by 
the  various  families  of  the  fort,  in  the  store 
house.  The  bride  and  groom  were  as  active 
as  the  others  in  these  preparations,  and  by  two 
o'clock  the  company  were  all  seated  around 
the  festive  board.  The  dinner  was  a  down 
right  sensible  meal,  and  consisted  of  beef,  pork, 
fowls,  venison,  and  bear-meat,  roasted  and 
boiled,  with  an  abundance  of  cabbage,  pota 
toes,  and  other  vegetables.  Seats  were  scarce, 
but  the  men  were  willing  to  stand.  There  was 
a  deficiency  of  knives,  too ;  but  this  was  easily 
remedied.  The  family  knives  were  given  to 
the  ladies,  and  the  men  made  use  of  their 
scalping-knives. 

Whiskey  took  the  place  of  wine,  but  it  was 
drank  in  moderation,  for  the  men  were  very 
Bayards  in  their  deference  to  the  gentler  sex, 
arid  no  one  thought  of  getting  drunk  in  such 
company.  The  dinner  was  eaten  with  zest, 


252  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

and  when  it  was  over  there  was  not  enough 
left  for  a  single  meal  for  a  person  with  a  mod 
erate  appetite. 

When  the  tables  were  removed,  the  floor 
was  cleared,  and  the  dancing  began.  Think 
of  it,  you  who  wait  till  half  the  night  is  over, 
before  beginning  your  pastime ;  think  of  going 
to  a  ball  at  four  o'clock  on  a  May  afternoon  ! 
The  fiddler  was  mounted  on  a  barrel,  at  one 
end  of  the  room,  and  the  first  figure,  which  was 
always,  in  such  cases,  "a  square  four,"  was 
called.  Then  came  the  "jigging  it  off,"  in 
which  the  four  would  divide  into  couples,  and 
end  the  set  with  a  jig.  Then  followed  the 
reels  and  jigs,  which  continued  without  slack 
ening,  until  the  fiddler  was  forced  to  throw  up 
his  bow  from  sheer  exhaustion.  A  brief  rest 
was  allowed  him,  and  he  was  ordered  to  begin 
afresh.  As  fast  as  the  dancers  became  tired, 
their  places  were  supplied  from  the  lookers-on ; 
and  thus  the  dance  went  on,  until  the  next 
day  had  fairly  dawned. 

At  ten  o'clock  a  deputation  of  young  maidens 


JOHN'S  WEDDING.  253 

stole  away  the  bride,  and,  flying  with  her 
across  the  yard  to  her  new  home,  soon  had  her 
tucked  away  in  the  bed,  and  half  an  hour 
later,  the  bridegroom  disappeared  from  the 
ball-room,  in  company  with  Dan  Whittaker  and 
several  of  his  friends ;  and  these  young  men 
performed  for  him  the  kind  office  of  stowing 
him  away  by  the  side  of  his  bride.  Then  they 
returned  to  the  ball-room. 

The  fun  grew  merrier  now.  No  one  was 
allowed  to  sleep,  and  even  the  parson  had  to 
take  his  share  in  the  reels  and  jigs.  The  good 
man  was  found,  towards  midnight,  nodding 
in  a  corner  of  the  room.  The  young  people 
seized  him  by  the  arms,  amidst  shouts  of 
laughter,  and  dragging  him  out  on  the  floor, 
bade  the  fiddler  play  "  Hang  out  till  to-morrow 
morning/'  in  token  that  the  parson  would  not 
be  allowed  to  seek  the  rest  he  craved  until 
the  night  was  over ;  but  he  outwitted  the  rev 
ellers,  however,  and,  taking  refuge  in  the  loft 
of  one  of  the  stables,  slept  there  soundly  from 
midnight  till  sunrise. 


254  PLANTING   THE   WILDERNESS. 

About  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  some  one 
called  out  to  Captain  Oxenford,  — 

"  I  say,  cap',  it's  about  time  to  send  '  Black 
Betty'  to  the  young  folks." 

Now,  "Black  Betty"  was  nothing  more  nor 
less  than  a  bottle  of  corn  whiskey,  and  it  was 
the  custom  to  send  it  to  the  newly-married 
pair  towards  the  wee  hours  of  the  morning. 
This  time  "Betty"  did  not  go  alone,  but  the 
deputation  that  carried  her  took  with  them  a 
supply  of  cabbage,  pork,  potatoes,  and  bear- 
meat,  plentiful  enough  to  feed  the  whole  set 
tlement,  and  the  bride  and  groom  were  com 
pelled  to  eat  heartily  of  these  provisions,  although 
they  protested  that  they  were  not  hungry.  The 
etiquette  of  the  times  supposed  that  they  were 
famished. 

The  dancing  ceased  at  sunrise,  and  the  guests 
prepared  to  depart.  By  nine  o'clock,  after 
having  partaken  of  a  hearty  breakfast,  they 
were  all  on  their  homeward  way,  and  the  fort 
relapsed  into  its  usual  quietness. 


JOHN'S  WEDDING.  255 

John  and  Annie  Oxenford  lived  to  a  good 
old  age,  and  had  the  happiness  of  seeing  the 
country  settled  and  prosperous.  In  his  seven 
tieth  year,  the  former  redeemed  the  promise 
of  his  childhood,  and  built  him  a  fine  house 
where  his  father's  cabin  had  first  been  located 
—  the  fort  having  been  broken  up,  and  the 
settlers  scattered,  after  the  close  of  the  Indian 
wars.  He  lived  to  see  his  great-grandchil 
dren  at  his  knee,  and  to  give  the  name  of  the 
old  hunter,  Bill  Davis,  —  which  was  also  that 
of  his  eldest  son  and  grandchild, — to  the  first 
great-grandchild,  so  that  to  this  day  it  is  borne 
by  his  descendants. 

Dan  Whittaker  married  Mary  Oxenford  two 
years  after  John's  marriage,  and  he  and  his 
wife  died  a  few  years  before  John.  The 
friendship  which  the  two  men  bore  each  other 
never  wavered,  and  it  was  grief  for  the  loss 
of  Dan  that  helped  to  bring  John  Oxenford 
to  his  grave. 

The  descendants  of  those  who  formed  the 
little  settlement  are  still  scattered  through  the 


256  PLANTING    THE    WILDERNESS. 

country  about  Fish  Creek ;  and  to  this  day 
they  cherish,  as  a  sort  of  precious  legacy,  the 
traditions  which  their  fathers  handed  down  to 
them  of  the  exploits  of  the  Pioneer  Boys  in 
Planting  the  Wilderness. 


a,    J.D. 

Plantinlg  the  wilder 


M121 
-P— 


ness 


M88962 


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